Transformers Animated: A Time for Trust
by ToyzInTheAttik
Summary: COMPLETE Blackarachnia finds an inventive way to resurrect the dead, the 'cons esacape from the EG and everyone finds themselves servos deep in doom back on Cybertron. Plenty of action, humor, romance, sci-fi and G1 nods, and a little Cybertronian history
1. Trust is a Rarity

A/N: (revised 12-17-2011) Two years ago, I watched the entire TFA series in a matter of one week. It completely hooked me. As a child of 80's who grew up with G1, I initially had my reservations, mainly because of the art style, but it didn't take long for the characters and story to grow on me. But by the end of season 3, I, like many many fans, was left feeling cheated and unsatisfied. I wasn't happy with the character deaths and far too many questions were left unanswered.

I wasn't about to let it end there.

My first fan project idea was to make a web comic, picking up where the story left off. I started writing the script for it and doing rough sketches of the scenes. I also designed a semi-OC (*cough*marysue), Chromia, who is actually more of a TFA'ized Thunderblast from the Cybertron series. The major difference is that her alt mode isn't a gunboat, but a mechanized Moth with hypnotic powers in her wings. It seemed to fit since Thunderblast looks like she has large butterfly-like wings in her root mode.

As I continued to write the script, I realized the amount of time and drawing I would have to do would be...a bit overwhelming, and, like many projects I have started, it would never get finished. So I kept writing, in script format, which was the only format I felt comfortable writing in at the time. As the story progressed, I settled more and more into my writer's shoes, and the format started evolving into an unconventional script/novel mish-mash, but I didn't care. I was on too much of a role by then, bolstered by the fans who didn't seem to mind the format, so long as the story kept on going.

I am so grateful for the encouragement of my readers and fandom friends! Without them, they may have been filed away in the unfinished project cabinet.

There are a few imports from G1 that I want to mention, mainly Ironhide and Cliffjumper. While I know there are TFA canon characters of them, I wrote them on the G1 model. Ironhide is more of an old-timer than his TFA counterpart and Cliffjumper is the feisty little scrapper who's always looking for trouble. There are also cameos from Blaster and the super-obscure Dreamweave character, Vibes.

One major canon deviation I want to point out is with Blackarachnia and Dinobot island. When I started writing this, I had forgotten that she was apparently warped into the Beast World and that Dinobot Island was left with a big gaping hole where Meltdown's lab used to be. My story assumes she is still operating out of the lab and the warping accident had merely transported her and Waspinator to another spot on the island, not another universe.

As far as slash goes, it isn't written directly in, but if you squint, the Megatron/Starscream and Prowl/Lockdown pairings are there. The main pairing who gets all mushy attention is Blackarachnia/Starscream. There's also some self indulgent PG13 naughtiness between Chromia and Prowl, heee.

Enjoy!

All characters are owned by Hasbro with the exception of my creative take on Chromia. (her design can be seen on DevArt)

**A Time For Trust** by _ToyzInTheAttic_

The streets of Iacon still buzzed with the excitement of the yesterday's events. The image of Megatron and his top lieutenants, defeated and in stasis cuffs, was burned into everyone's processor. The same crowds that came out to welcome the arrival of Optimus Prime and his team intended to fill the streets again tomorrow to witness the transporting of the Decepticons to the stockades, and they intended to fill the courthouses during Megatron's long-awaited trial set to be held the following week.

...That is, if Megatron had actually made it to the stockades.

The twenty-four mega-cycles that followed that history-making event in the streets of Iacon were the deciding mega-cycles of Cybertron's future. It all came down to a series of decisions (i.e. mistakes) made by the Autobot High Council, namely Sentinel Magnus. The first mistake was assuming there were no more Decepticon loyalists in the Elite Guard ranks after the discovery of Longarm Prime's true identity. The second mistake was assigning only four Autobots to guard all six Decepticon prisoners in the temporary holding facility, and the third mistake was assuming all four of these Autobots were incapable of being a Decepticon loyalist that couldn't possibly exist after the discovery of Longarm Prime's true identity.

**IACON CITY - ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS - PRISONER HOLDING FACILITY**

Cliffjumper is seated at the console of a massive computer in the facility's command room. He taps away at the keypads, his demeanor typically careless, despite the uneasiness of his comrade. Ironhide paces nervously behind him, stopping occasionally to cast his doubting optics on the blank monitors, hoping maybe the higher-ups heard his pleas for tightened security and the visage of the actual holding chamber would come into view. But, alas, his pleas must have fallen on deaf audio receptors and his request for video surveillance of the prisoners must have been denied. He continues to pace, his hand rubbing along the back of his head and neck, his grumbles growing audible enough to wear on the only other occupant in the room.

CLIFFJUMPER  
Knock it off! (he turns in his chair to cast an annoyed glance to Ironhide) You need to pull yourself together, the next shift of guards just arrived. We can't have you springing an oil leak and making us look bad.

Ironhide halts his pacing, straightening his posture and curling his bottom lip in offense.

IRONHIDE  
Why! Who are they?

CLIFFJUMPER  
They sent us Brawn's pompous aft again and...get this...Agent Chromia.

IRONHIDE  
(baffled)  
Chromia, from Intelligence?

CLIFFJUMPER  
Yep! (his voice slides into sarcasm) Apparently guarding 'cons isn't considered a possible combat situation.

IRONHIDE  
(slamming his fist into his palm)  
I'm tired of Sentinel treatin' this operation like some fly-by-night prisoner transport. There's no excuse to leave us understaffed. Ultra Magnus would've armed this place to the teeth!

CLIFFJUMPER  
(with a shrug)  
Sentinel's just over confident in our new security upgrades. (resumes tapping on his keypads) Those new stasis chains are pretty wicked though. (he lightly chuckles) I was messin' with Lugnut earlier and he couldn't do a slaggin' thing.

IRONHIDE  
You were what! Cliffjumper, you should know better than to-

Ironhide is interrupted by the sound of the main doors, which slide open to reveal Brawn and Chromia.

BRAWN  
Sergeant Brawn reporting for duty, sir.

CHROMIA  
Lieutenant Chromia reporting for duty, sir.

IRONHIDE  
Dawww, knock off the formalities.

The two newcomers relax their stance as Ironhide motions for them to follow him.

Cliffjumper swivels in his chair, a wide grin spreading across his face. He points a mocking finger at Brawn and bursts into laughter.

BRAWN  
(keeping his cool)  
What's so funny, Cliffjumper?

CLIFFJUMPER  
You! (laughs harder) Are you that much of a liability that they've assigned a professional to negotiate you outta the slag heaps you create?

Ironhide opens a secure panel on the wall and pulls two stasis prods from the compartment.

BRAWN  
(letting a smile slip)  
Keep it up, buddy...

Ironhide hands the prods to Brawn and Chromia.

BRAWN  
(still glaring at Cliffjumper as he takes the prod and points it toward his heckler)  
...I dare ya. (to Ironhide) I need to test this on someone.

CLIFFJUMPER  
(still laughing)  
C'mon bring it!

Chromia shifts a questioning glance Ironhide who responds by rolling his optics.

IRONHIDE  
These two could banter all night.

CHROMIA  
(not amused)  
Then perhaps you should take us to the holding chamber already...sir.

Ironhide smacks Brawn on the back of the head.

IRONHIDE  
Fine idea...let's go, tough guy.

Brawn keeps his glare locked on Cliffjumper as he follows Ironhide and Chromia to the side door. The three leave the room and enter a corridor, Ironhide in front with the other two a short distance behind each arm.

IRONHIDE  
Chromia, if you don't mind my askin', why on Cybertron did they assign you to me?

CHROMIA  
(speaking in her most diplomatic tone)  
I requested this assignment. I've never before been in the presence of a Decepticon and I feel it's essential for any Autobot officer to have experience interacting with them.

IRONHIDE  
(unconvinced)  
Hmm...under previous circumstances, I would find that odd, but seeing how our Magnus never saw a 'con up close and personal until recently, I'll just chalk it up to a trend among higher-ranking officials.

CHROMIA  
If it's any consolation to you, I have had as much combat training as every other soldier they see fit for guard duty.

BRAWN  
(lightly shoving Ironhide in the back)  
Relax 'Hide, she kicks aft...well, not my aft, but Cliffjumper's for sure.

The femme cracks a smile aimed at Brawn.

CHROMIA  
Was that a compliment?

BRAWN  
(shrugs indifferently)  
Sure...we gotta make the best of the next several megacycles in this chamber. Last thing I want around is a moody femme who's normally paid to talk.

Her smile drops to a scowl.

The three stop upon reaching a large door and Ironhide enters a code into the touch-sensitive keypad on the wall.

IRONHIDE  
Alright you two, time to be serious.

The door slides open and Ironhide enters the chamber. Two guard bots stationed at opposite ends of the room eagerly avert their attention to their commanding officer.

IRONHIDE  
(loudly)  
Changing of the guard! C'mon fellas, let's pack it in for the night.

Brawn and Chromia enter the chamber as their predecessors exit. It's ceiling is much taller than that of the corridor's and it's filled with a chilling blue glow, emitting from the eight towering translucent cells, six of which house its own Decepticon. The cells are split up by a wide walkway, four on each side of the room. Megatron is at the far end of the left side of the room sandwiched between the wall and an empty cell. Lugnut is on the same side but separated from his leader by two empty cells. On the right side are four full cells housing two clones, a triple-changer and an infamous double-agent. The prisoners are free to move around in their cells, but the stasis chains around their wrists and ankles prohibit any sudden actions. Each prisoner, except for Shockwave, bears a mouth clamp as well.

Chromia can't hide her awe-struck state which Brawn is instantly tuned to. She takes a few slow steps into the room, eyes wide open, mouth gaping.

BRAWN  
Bigger than you expected, right?

CHROMIA  
They're magnificent!

BRAWN  
(furrowing his brow)  
Not my first choice of words for these demented scrap piles.

IRONHIDE  
(pointing to each location)  
Chromia, take your post at the entrance here. Brawn, go to the opposite end near Megatron.

BRAWN  
(with a pompously sinister tone)  
With pleasure.

Brawn struts toward his post, threateningly eyeballing each Decepticon that he passes.

The name "Megatron" still echoes in the femme's circuits. She barely makes out the a silver mech behind the layers of translucent blue walls. He's seated on an unfitting fold down bench, massive upper body leaning forward, arms resting on his legs, hands folded over one another. He never averted his gaze from the floor, despite the happenings in the chamber. Her spark was racing and she strained to maintain a cool air of control.

IRONHIDE  
Alright Chromia, in a couple megacycles, we give these creeps their energon rations.

CHROMIA  
(voice wavering with a suppressed excitement)  
Yes sir, I've been well versed on the details of this assignment.

IRONHIDE  
Good soldier...caught up on her homework.

Ironhide sternly pans the room before exiting.

Chromia cringes at being called a "good solider", internally cursing the residual sexism that still lingers in Autobot society. She's relieved to be free of Ironhide's overbearing presence and resumes her gawking like a young mech in a prehistoric museum. She moves forward, easing past each occupied cell, marveling at their occupants.

BRAWN  
(watching her with a quirked brow)  
First day on the job and you're already straying from your assigned post?

CHROMIA  
(optics locked on Blitzwing)  
Report me, then.

BRAWN  
It doesn't bother me. For once, someone else will get busted for breaking the rules.

CHROMIA  
This triple-changer's design is amazing. How is this technology possible?

Brawn leaves his post without hesitation and approaches Blitzwing's cell, eager to show off his Decepticon knowledge.

BRAWN  
This one here is an absolute lunatic. His personality circuits are a jumble...but leave it to a Decepticon to find a mutation advantageous.

As Blitzwing's rises from his seated position, his face whirlwinds from clamped-mouthed "Icy" to "Hothead", also clamped.

CHROMIA  
(slips a giggle)  
Whoa, neat!

BRAWN  
You haven't seen the best of it...check this out.

Megatron lifted his head just enough to focus his optics on the pathetic spectacle. Brawns starts tapping Blitzwing's cell.

BRAWN  
Hey...Decepti-freak!

Blitzwing's optic visor narrows.

Shockwave, also seated but leaning his back to the wall, glances at Megatron, who's directly across from him. Megatron returns the glance, shakes his head in disgust and lowers his attention to its original downward position.

Brawn continues to taunt Blitzwing.

BRAWN  
The circus is in town, and I hear they're in need of a new act.

Quivering, Blitzwing squeezes his optics shut, but can't avoid the inevitable. A black face with sharp red features explodes into the scene.

RANDOM BLITZWING  
Oooohh-Ho-Ho-Ho-Heee-Hehehe! I love zee circus! Can I go, can I go? Please, please pleeeease!

Brawn bursts into uncontrollable laughter. Blitzwing's face sweeps back to Hothead as he growls through the clamp. Chromia's jaw drops, crooked with a half smile.

CHROMIA  
Why isn't that mouth clamped?

BRAWN  
(still laughing)  
Because no one can catch it.

CHROMIA  
How…(tilts her head) novel.

Brawn wipes energon from his eyes and starts to regain his composure.

BRAWN  
Alright, playtime's over...let's get back to our posts.

The two guards walk in opposite directions from each other. Chuckles randomly escape from Brawn as he passes Shockwave's cell, every step scrutinized by a single glowing red optic.

Disgusted by the small Autobot's arrogance, Shockwave turns to analyze the femme whom he clearly recognizes. He pondered what a negotiations bot was doing on guard duty. In his peripheral, he feels the attention of Megatron again and quickly turns to flash some patterns through his single facial feature.

This action does not escape Brawn's attention. The stout soldier spins around and slams his fist into the interface on Shockwave's cell. Jolts of electricity surge through the prisoner. Shockwave tenses up and unwillingly growls in pain.

SHOCKWAVE  
You accursed Autobot!

Brawn hovers his fist over the interface.

BRAWN  
What did you tell him?

SHOCKWAVE  
We were discussing your creator's intentions in regards to your aesthetics.

Chromia stands motionless, gaping with intrigue and stifling the urge to chuckle at Shockwave's retort.

BRAWN  
Listen traitor, I'm willing to go to great extents to rip a mouth in your face just so I have the pleasure of installing a clamp myself.

SHOCKWAVE  
Spare me your illogical threats.

Megatron glares into Shockwave's optic. Shockwave takes the hint, releasing his tension and leaning back into the wall.

Disappointed at the silence befalling the chamber, Chromia maintains her post at the dull end. She observes the two seekers, pondering the narcissism involved in self-cloning. Her gaze wanders across to the opposite side, pausing on Lugnut for a moment, but continues on, fixing upon on the indistinct silver and black form. She sighs dreamily, wishing she had been posted on the opposite of the room.

**ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS - SMALL UNOFFICIAL ROOM**

Jazz is seated, leaning his upper body on the table and staring introspectively into nothing. His normally vibrant optic visor is dimmed to a cloudy blue. Optimus Prime is standing a short distance off, leaning against the wall. The mood in the room is about as uplifting as it's dull gray walls but its about to get worse as the Autobots are about to feel the full effects of the Council's fourth and final impacting decision of the twenty-four cycles following the heroes' return to Cybertron.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I'm so fed up with waiting. What's there to discuss?

He vents a long, sorrowful sigh and leans his forehead against the wall, dimming his optics as he fights to push the words out.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
He died a hero...that's all there is to it.

JAZZ  
No doubt, Boss, But the politics of the matter ain't so simple.

Arcee enters the room, instantly capturing the mechs' attention. She seats herself next to Jazz who looks upon her with the faintest of hope that's fighting to stay alive in his spark. Optimus takes a seat across from the candy-striped courier, his optics locked desperately onto hers. She slides her hands out, lightly grasping each of theirs', her spark sinking as she beholds them with her sincerest of sympathies.

ARCEE  
(reluctantly)  
Okay, so the council undoubtedly recognizes Prowl's actions as heroic...but there's a hang-up with the circumstances surrounding his death.

Jazz's visor narrows as he ponders her possible meaning.

JAZZ  
What circumstances?…You mean Processor over Matter?

ARCEE  
Yes. (she drops her gaze and squeezes Jazz's hand) The council doesn't believe that's how the events played out.

Jazz jerks up from his seat, ripping his hand from her grasp. He knocks his chair over and advances on the wall, banging it with his fist.

JAZZ  
Those thick sons-of...

He pounds the wall again, choking on a deluge of anger, pain and regret. Optimus rises in concern and inches toward him.

JAZZ  
(turning to Arcee)  
So they think I'm just playin' em?

ARCEE  
They think you're covering up...(her voice shrinks) for the sake of your own reputation.

Jazz slams his hands down on the table directly in front of Arcee. She flinches and scoots as far back as possible in her chair.

JAZZ  
(desperately)  
There was nothing I could do!

Optimus grabs Jazz by the shoulders and eases him back.

Arcee vents a pained sigh, her processor filing with memories during the war when grieving such as this was an everyday occurrence. She never knew Prowl but she could tell by the sorrow in the mechs' eyes that he must have been a bot worth knowing. She wants to curse the Council for their disregard of him. She had hoped to wake up to a changed system; one that looked beyond rank and recognized the value of each and every spark that wore the Autobot symbol. Her spark sinks deeper as she realizes her hopes are in futility, especially since they elected Sentinel Minor, as she knew him, into the role of Magnus.

She rises up, regaining her composure and resting a reassuring hand on Jazz's arm.

ARCEE  
I believe you, Jazz. Trust me, I'm on your side...but-

He avoids her sympathy, angrily righting his chair and taking a seat again. He props his elbows onto the table and leans into his hands, his face covered.

JAZZ  
But what?

She eases back into her chair, disbelieving of the insensitive news she's been forced to deliver.

ARCEE  
The council never took that aspect of Master Yoketron's training technique seriously.

JAZZ  
(his voice is muffled by his hands but the bitterness is clear)  
Big surprise there...its one of Master's few non-violent moves.

Optimus approaches his chair, but remains standing, his face washing over in paranoia.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
What are you telling us Arcee? Has the council made a decision?

ARCEE  
(grasping at a glint of hope)  
They would be open for new evidence backing Jazz's testimony, but...for the time being...

Optimus drops back into his chair, leaning his forehead against both palms.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
There is no new evidence.

ARCEE  
The Council doesn't see a place for Prowl in the Hall of Heroes.

**EARTH - DINOBOT ISLAND - PROMETHEUS BLACK'S LABORATORY**

The laboratory is illuminated by the giant monitor of the mega-computer. The screen is littered with windows full of mechanoid and human anatomy diagrams. On the floor next to the work table is a heap covered by a large tarp. The tarp cannot hide the angular edges and bipedal form of what lies beneath it.

Blackarachnia and Swindle stand confronting each other. Swindle has an All Spark fragment in one hand and is pointing his arm cannon on the other hand at Blackarachnia.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(attempting to stand her ground)  
Look Swindle, I can pay you, just not at the moment.

SWINDLE  
(unrelenting)  
I don't operate that way, sweetheart. Cash-on-delivery, not layaway. You're already in debt to me for transporting that carcass here. (glances to the body with a smirk) What'ya, got a Frankenstein experiment going on? You gonna make a companion bot that doesn't flee at the sight of you?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(her tone dangerously low)  
Now you're just being mean.

SWINDLE  
(his smile drops as he focuses back on her)  
And you're being totally unreasonable.

A corner of her mouth curls up, unsheathing a single fang. She raises her optics to look past Swindle, her smile spreading as a shadow brushes over the dealer's helmet.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You think this is unreasonable?

Upon sensing that he and the predacon were not the only occupants of the room, Swindle twists around just in time for a clawed yellow paw to launch him off his feet. He crashes into the floor, sliding on his back until smacking into a wall.

GRIMLOCK  
(roaring)  
Nobody be mean to Spiderlady!

Blackarachnia shoots a flirting, grateful wink to the dinobot then sways over to the defeated dealer until her shadow looms heavily across his face.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(her smile darkening to a threatening scowl)  
Now, hand over that shard, before Grimlock gets angry.

Swindle ventilates in a heated rhythm, his anger bubbling quickly to the surface. He grips the shard tighter and squeezes his beady purple optics into slits.

SWINDLE  
You have no idea who you're messing with.

Grimlock bristles at the threat and proudly stomps up next to his muse, casting a much larger shadow over Swindle's face.

GRIMLOCK  
Me Grimlock say you do as Blackarachnia say.

Swindle darts his glare back and forth between the two monsters, gritting his teeth as he reluctantly releases his grip on the shard and hands it to Blackarachnia.

She leans in to retrieve her prize, her smirk inching back onto her cheek.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Not every bot flees from me…(She snatches the shard from his hand leans in even closer)...just the cowards. Why don't follow in their example.

Disgusted, Swindle backs away and staggers to his feet.

SWINDLE  
You just signed the dotted line of death, my dear.

He transforms in a whirl and speeds off toward the exit.

SWINDLE  
You'll regret this, you witch...you…you, FREAK!

As his voice fades into the blackness with his taillights, Blackarachnia's confident smirk deflates to a frown. It doesn't matter the quality of character those words spew from; they still hurt.

Grimlock roars lividly, sensing the defeat in the spider.

GRIMLOCK  
Me Grimlock teach mean truck some manners?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(her raspy voice a near whisper)  
Let him go.

She holds the shard in front her four optics, squinting from the immensity of its gleam.

GRIMLOCK  
(simmering down a notch as he watches her)  
Me Grimlock can bring you sparklies too...bigger ones, prettier ones.

The spider glances up from her treasure to catch the doting gape of her subservient.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I know you can, my pet...(her four optics narrow sinisterly) but what I need right now is a squishy.


	2. Out of our control

**CYBERTRON - PRISONER HOLDING CHAMBER**

BRAWN  
(from across the room)  
Ironhide will be here in a few kliks with energon rations. You gonna do the honors?

CHROMIA  
As long as you make sure these scrap piles don't try anything fancy.

BRAWN  
Scrap piles? What happened to "magnificent"?

CHROMIA  
(sarcastically)  
Well...they don't really do anything besides stand around...I mean, not even a song or dan...

Random Blitzwing seizes his cue and explodes into song.

BLITZWING  
(piercingly loud)  
"D" is for zee Dre-ead which Dvells inside your he-ead!  
(whispering)"E" is for Eerie Echoz undaneaz your be-ed(loud again)  
"C" is for zee Cu-urse...

Shockwave can't take it anymore and snaps at the crooner.

SHOCKWAVE  
Silence, you fool!

BRAWN  
(threateningly at Shockwave)  
Hey, I give the orders around here!

Icy Blitzwing emerges with a sigh, bringing calm back to his cell.

The chamber room door slides open and Ironhide appears holding a tray full of small energon cubes which cast a pink glow on his chest and face.

IRONHIDE  
I'm liable to blow a head gasket if I hear that darned anthem one more time. (hands the tray to Chromia) Here ya go, doll.

Chromia leans her stasis prod against the wall and takes the tray.

IRONHIDE  
There's enough there so everyone gets one each, you two included.

She nods at Ironhide then walks slowly down the center of the chamber. As she approaches Brawn, who immediately left his post upon Ironhide's arrival, he takes a mental inventory of the cubes. The green mech furls his brow then jogs toward Ironhide, who was about to exit.

BRAWN  
Hold up there, pal.

He motions to Ironhide and the taller mech lowers his audio receptors to Brawn's level.

BRAWN  
I only counted eight cubes...

Chromia acts quickly while her colleagues are distracted. She balances the tray on one hand and a small hatch opens in the wrist cuff of her other hand. A beam of light emerges from the small opening and she discretely shines it into all but one of the cubes.

Shockwave and Megatron are both tuned to her actions.

BRAWN  
(still whispering to Ironhide)  
I thought you were going to hook me up. You know one cube doesn't curb this appetite. (Brawn pats his belly)

Chromia is now passing the space between Shockwave and Megatron's cells. She can feel the burn of two powerful red optics inspecting her every move. _Don't make optic contact. Not yet_.

She nervously places the unaltered cube on the floor at Brawn's post.

Ironhide straightens his posture, fed up with his comrade's request.

IRONHIDE  
(motioning to Lugnut)  
If this overgrown waste of metal can function on one cube, so can you. Now go watch her back!

Brawn disdainfully reaches down and grabs Chromia's stasis prod.

BRAWN  
Yeah, yeah...

Chromia approaches Shockwave's cell and enters a code on its interface.

CHROMIA  
Good evening, Longarm Prime.

On the cell, a panel sized just right for an energon cube tilts inward ninety degrees, creating a small platform but leaving a square-shape opening in the cell wall. Chromia slides a cube through the opening.

SHOCKWAVE  
(his optic flashing patterns again)

Good evening, Chromia.

SHOCKWAVE'S SILENT MESSAGE  
[What did you do to our rations?]

Now dual-wielding prods, Brawn struts down the center of the room. Ironhide takes an uneasy glance of the chamber as he exits, door whizzing shut behind him.

The Autobot insignia on Chromia neck piece lights up, flashing in patterns back to her captive.

CHROMIA  
Not quite the same circumstances we met under last time.  
CHROMIA'S SILENT MESSAGE  
[I charged it with an energon booster, infused with anti-stasis]

As Brawn approaches, Shockwave and Chromia desist the silent conversation. Shockwave stands up, grabs the cube and brings it to optic level. He jiggles it a bit and observes the enegon's movement.

BRAWN  
(mildly agitated)  
What the spark's my energon doing on the floor?

CHROMIA  
(broadly smiling)  
I wanted to make sure you got the fullest one.

Brawn passes by, b-lining for his ration. He transfers a stasis prod from one hand to other so both prods are now in one grip. He kneels down and claims the small glowing prize before him. Shockwave stands positioned so both Chromia and Megatron can read his optic flashes.

SHOCKWAVE  
(to Chromia)  
I'm flattered you'd stoop to a grunt's assignment just to see me again.  
SHOCKWAVE'S SILENT MESSAGE  
[How can I be sure that you actually charged our energon rather than tainting it?]

Megatron acknowledges and rises from his bench. Chromia cues into the now 3-way conversation.

Shockwave's comment causes Brawn to choke on his energon. He jerks toward the cyclops, raising the prods into clear view.

BRAWN  
I'll show ya stooping you sarcastic slagger!

CHROMIA  
Ease off, Brawn. I'm always game for a little verbal sparring with my former boss.

Random Blitzwing emerges, uninvited by his host, as usual.

RANDOM BLITZWING  
You mean I have to vait for Shockwave to finish talking before I get my ration?!! I vill surely starve!!

Chromia briefly glances at Blitzwing, her processor working overtime, then returns focus to Brawn.

CHROMIA  
Can you take care of him, please?

She hands Brawn an energon cube. He puts back the last drops of his own ration, slams the empty cube on her tray and grabs the new ration from her hand.

With Brawn's attention fully diverted to Blitzwing, Chromia resumes flashing patterns at Shockwave.

CHROMIA  
Flattering you certainly isn't my first objective in being here, but feel free to fantasize all you want if it helps pass the time.  
CHROMIA'S SILENT MESSAGE  
[Because I charged my own cube as well. The effects will wear off in ten cycles so we need to act fast]

Chromia picks up a cube and sips from it, optics remaining focused on Shockwave.

Brawn punches a code into the interface of Blitzwing's cell.

BRAWN  
(directed at Chromia)  
Your civility towards these warmongers baffles me.

Her optics shrink to slits. _Warmongers...you're one to talk._

He glances at his peculiar partner just in time to witness her shooting the entire cube of energon down her tilted throat.

BRAWN  
Whoa...nice.

He continues to serve Blitzwing the ration, then pulls a small device from a compartment in his waist. He's about to enter a code into the device keypad, but pauses and peers up at the deranged red and black face.

BRAWN  
What am I doing, you don't need all three mouths to consume that. Make due with just the one.

Chromia wipes the sides of her mouth with the top of her hand. _Hopefully that will relieve some tension for what I need to do now_.

She slowly turns to face Megatron's cell, servos weakened by his presence as he skeptically reads the message which Shockwave is silently relaying. Her hand rises to cell's interface and it takes all her focus just to remember the ration hatch code. The Decepticon symbol on Megatron's chest begins flashing.

MEGATRON'S SILENT MESSAGE  
[I refuse to trust this Autobot]

SHOCKWAVE'S SILENT MESSAGE  
[We would be foolish to pass up any opportunity of escape, oh great one. I personally would rather be sick with poisoned energon than be subjected to the humiliation of the Autobot judicial system.]

The hatch on Megatron's cell opens. Straining to steady her hand, she places the cube on the panel. Megatron's symbol continues to flash but his optics have focused on her now.

MEGATRON'S SILENT MESSAGE  
[Explain your intentions, Autobot]

She snap her posture to attentiveness_. Oh Primus, here we go. Don't foul this up, Chromia_.

Flashes sputter from her insignia as she tilts her gaze up to lock onto the menacingly curious stare that befalls her.

CHROMIA'S SILENT MESSAGE  
(flashing quicker than before)  
[My only desire, Lord Megatron, is to serve under your command. The Autobot cause is flawed and corrupt...]

BRAWN  
(interrupting)  
Chromia, you'll need this to unlock Megatron's clamp.

Brawn, now standing at Lugnut's cell hurls the small device to her, which she barely catches, wobbling and tilting the energon tray in the process. The empty cube slides over the edge and hits the floor, bouncing a couple times.

BRAWN  
Same code as his cell, oh and toss me a cube so I can feed this barbarian, and try not to drop anymore this time.

Chromia angrily regains composure and tosses a cube to the reckless Autobot.

Megatron's symbol flashes again.

MEGATRON'S SILENT MESSAGE  
[Relieve me of this infernal clamp already]

Fumbling, she taps a code into the device and his clamp lowers.

The tense silence is shattered by the desecration of Shockwave's cell behind her followed by the screech of alarms echoing throughout the chamber.

Megatron ingests the energon, unaffected by the surrounding chaos.

Shockwave storms through the falling fragments of his cell and snatches Chromia up by the neck. The tray of energon slips from her grasp, sending the last two energon cubes tumbling to the floor.

Brawn just finished serving Lugnut his ration, and whiplashes to witness the events unfolding.

BRAWN  
(in shock)  
What the..

Shockwave quietly threatens Chromia as he tightens his claw around her neck.

SHOCKWAVE  
Are you going to play along or should I make this hurt?

Brawn advances, equipping a prod in each hand, rage surging through his optics.

BRAWN  
Release her, Shockwave! You don't stand a chance while wearing those stasis...

Brawn stops in his tracks when he notices Shockwave's stasis chains are merely mangled cuffs on his ankles and wrists, the rest scattered around on the floor among the numerous cell pieces.

BRAWN  
(deflated)  
...chains?

From his peripheral, Brawn can see the triple-changer breaking free from his stasis chains, but the he's is powerless to stop the Decepticon from barreling through his prison and backhanding the small guard into the yellow clone's cell. Blitzwing tears the clamp from his Hothead face.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
Sveet Primus zat felt good!

Brawn springs to his feet and charges at Blitzwing, thrusting both stasis prods into the escapee's leg. The triple-changer remains still accept for the whirring face.

RANDOM BLITZWING  
OOoooOOo, zat tickles!

The erratic Decepticon launches his foot at the stubby pest, while Lugnut simultaneously bursts through his cell. Brawn is rocketed into Lugnut's face, causing the giant to fall backward against the wall and growl with anger.

Blitzing changes perspectives to survey the results of his actions.

ICY BLITZWING  
Oh deah, I did not intend to do zat.

Still inhibited by the chains, Megatron absorbs the awesome events being played out for him. Without a thought of effort, he jerks his fists apart and kicks one leg backward, hurling dozens of chain fragments crashing around into the walls of his cell.

Shockwave can see what's coming and backs himself and his pseudo-hostage up. Had he hesitated a moment longer, they'd have been showered in a blast of cell fragments.

Megatron reveled at the achievement of his single fist and proudly steps through the disintegrated wreckage, mercilessly crunching the former prison under his feet.

**COMMAND ROOM**

Ironhide, moving with a nervous determination, accesses an arsenal closet much larger than the compartment that housed the stasis prods. The same shrill scream of alarms echo through the command room.

IRONHIDE  
(suppressing panic)  
That better be a false alarm! Git Brawn on the comm.

He pulls two large blasters from the closet, tossing one to his partner and holstering the other at his side. In recent years, the Autobots have frowned on the use of guns, but Ironhide pays no mind to these rules given the potential severity of the situation.

CLIFFJUMPER  
(into his comm. link)  
Brawn buddy, everything okay in there? (no response) Brawn, do you copy? (still no response)

IRONHIDE  
(into his comm. link)  
Talk ta me, Chromia. What's goin' on?

**CORRIDOR CONNECTING PRISONER CHAMBER TO COMMAND ROOM**

The Decepticons move down the corridor with the air of a raging storm front. Megatron leading the pack, closely followed by Shockwave who still hostages his new protégé. Blitzwing and Lugnut are side by side at the rear.

Ironhide's voice blares through Chromia's comm. link.

IRONHIDE  
Chromia, I repeat. What the spark is goin' on?

Chromia looks to Shockwave for advice.

SHOCKWAVE  
Are you able to act genuinely frightened or should I give you a motive?

CHROMIA  
(into comm. link, voice pitches higher than normal)  
Ironhide, they escaped! There was a glitch in the stasis control systems and...

Shockwave interrupts, intentionally making his voice heard through her comm.

SHOCKWAVE  
Silence, Autobot weakling!

She forces a scream, then closes the transmission.

SHOCKWAVE  
You're good. It's quite amusing really...for solarcycles, we fooled each other at our very own game. Keep this up and you'll be adorned with our symbol soon enough.

A look of confusion washes over Chromia's face.

CHROMIA  
You...you're taking me with you, right?

SHOCKWAVE  
No, of course not. You still have the advantage of anonymity from the Autobots. You'll prove most instrumental for our cause if you remain here, covertly maintaining your status as a trusted official, just as I was.

CHROMIA  
But..._  
Blast it! He's totally right_.

**COMMAND ROOM**

Ironhide fiddles with the setting on his blaster, teeth gritting with panicked rage. Cliffjumper hovers over the command console, frantically typing on the numerous keypads.

IRONHIDE  
A slaggin' systems glitch...I was a fool to trust Sentinel's judgment!

CLIFFJUMPER  
Now's not the time for self-reprimand! Ready yourself!

The small scrapper leaves the console and advances toward the door where they can hear footsteps growing louder with each passing moment. Ironhide, now equipped with a fully charged blaster, cautiously follows his comrade.

**CORRIDOR**

Lugnut puts an extra spring in his step and catches up to his leader. Shockwave grunts as he's rudely cut-off by the lumbering mech.

LUGNUT  
Master, what about the clones?

MEGATRON  
(without hesitation)  
Leave them.

LUGNUT  
But sir! They are powerful assets...

MEGATRON  
(agitated)  
I said leave them! There is no place in my army for symbols of treachery. (shifting focus) Autobot! You claim our weapons are being stored in the room ahead.

CHROMIA  
That's correct...Sir. You'll need Ironhide's code to access them.

MEGATRON  
And you're sure there are only two Autobots in there?

CHROMIA  
Affirmative.

As the Cons approach the door, Megatron, maintaining the quick pace of his stride, draws his shoulders and arms back and plows his fists through the door.

**COMMAND ROOM**

Ironhide is pummeled by a large black fist and crashes to the floor. The other fist nearly misses Cliffjumper's head and he acrobatically springs back a to safer distance.

Megatron peels back the metal, insulted by the pathetically weak architecture used to imprison his greatness. He steps through the opening and is preceded with two large green fists which further widen the gnarled metal.

Lugnut proudly emerges behind his leader, followed by Blitzwing.

Ironhide, having lost grip on his weapon during the punch, gapes helplessly at the giants looming over him. He darts his optics at the surrounding wreckage, hoping to locate his blaster, but to no avail.

Megatron fearlessly steps forward.

MEGATRON  
The Elite Guard dare assume they can incarcerate me in such inept facilities...the fools.

The silver gladiator slams his foot down on Ironhide's chest.

MEGATRON  
Ironhide, I presume. You will retrieve our weapons or suffer the consequences.

Cliffjumper unwaveringly points his blaster at Megatron's head.

CLIFFJUMPER  
Not another move, Megatron.

Shockwave slips onto the scene, twisting his way around Blitzwing and Lugnut to the front line, Chromia wriggling in forced fear within his clutches. Ironhide immediately locks his focus to Shockwave's captive.

IRONHIDE  
Cliffjumper, hold yer fire! They've got Chromia!

Megatron raises his glare from Ironhide and scans the room, amused to see the open door of the arsenal closet.

Ironhide grunts as the large foot is peeled from his chassis. The Decepticon leader strides across the room to the open closet.

MEGATRON  
This was almost too easy.

Ironhide painstakingly sits up.

IRONHIDE  
Chromia, are you hurt? Where's Brawn, is he okay?

CHROMIA  
Brawn's injured, but he's not offline.

CLIFFJUMPER  
What! You Decepti-jerks will pay for this!

SHOCKWAVE  
Silence yourselves, Autobots!

The Decepticon leader pulls each of his soldier's weapons out of the arsenal, one by one, tossing them to their respective owners.

A familiar voice emerges through the main computer's comm. link.

RODIMUS  
Cliffjumper, I received your distress signal. Back up is on the way, just do what can to hold your ground. Rodimus out.

CLIFFJUMPER  
(hopelessly sarcastic)  
Hold my ground…sure thing.

Saving the best for last, Megatron removes a large black cannon from the closet and wastes no time in securing his old friend to its berth on his arm. The lethal weapon begins to charge up as its wielder raises the barrel toward the ceiling.

MEGATRON  
Decepticons, come to me!

Blitzwing and Lugnut immediately heed their master's call.

Shockwave tightens his grip on Chromia's neck, reminding the Autobots of their delicate situation, then heads toward his commander.

A large explosion drowns even the roar of the alarms as Megatron's canon blasts a hole in the ceiling.

Ironhide seizes the moment while everyone's distracted and lunges at Shockwave's legs. The purple Con tumbles to the ground, releasing his grip on Chromia. She hit's the floor with a thud and Ironhide immediately scoops her up and backs them off to safety.

Megatron has already flown the coup, closely followed by Lugnut. Blitzwing, the only one noticing Shockwave's plight, crouches down and grabs him by the arm.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
(threateningly)  
Get a move on you klutz!

IRONHIDE  
Now Cliffjumper, blast 'em with all ya got!

Cliffjumper cuts loose a barrage of laser fire at the two remaining enemies.

Blitzwing yanks Shockwave from the line of fire but takes a couple hits to his arm and shoulder. He launches upward to their exit, towing Shockwave behind.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
(smoke spewing from his left side)  
OUCH! Zat hurt, puny Autobot!

A Jack-O-Lantern grin silences the angry red face.

RANDOM BLITZWING  
But vee'll all feel better after a victory song! (bursting into song) D iz for zee Dre-ead...

SHOCKWAVE  
Oh for Primus' sake.

The triple-changer's shrill screech trails off as the two disappear into the Cybertronian nightscape.

Rodimus, backed by multiple armed Autobot soldiers burst into the command room through the main doors.

IRONHIDE  
It's too late for ground units sir, we need air support!

RODIMUS  
I'll call it in, but..

CHROMIA  
There's no way they'll get here in time.

With sheer frustration, Ironhide pounds his fists into the control console.

IRONHIDE  
(fiercely hollering)  
Daaaaggghhh, son-of-a...

RODIMUS  
(maintaining his cool)  
Cliffjumper, run a scan on all non-Autobot energy signatures in the area.

CLIFFJUMPER  
Yes sir.

Chromia sympathetically slides up to Ironhide and rests her hand on his back.

CHROMIA  
(gently)  
Don't beat yourself up, Ironhide. This was out of our control.

**CYBERTRON AIRFIELD - NIGHT**

Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Bulkhead, Jazz, and Bumblebee, with Sari as his passenger, speed across the airfield, swerving around various stationary aircraft. Optimus leads the tight knit convoy with Ratchet bringing up the rear. Through the ambulance's back window, a sleek black casket is visible.

BUMBLEBEE  
(via dashboard comm.)  
Uh, Prime, I hate to rain on our parade, but do we have clearance to take a shuttle?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I have all the clearance I need.

BUMBLEBEE  
In other words, no.

Sari sits in Bumblebee's passenger seat, mask up, arms stiffly spread out from her sides as she braces for every abrupt turn.

SARI  
(just shy of a tantrum)  
What's wrong with the Autobots on this planet!? Has everyone blown their logic circuits!?

BUMBLEBEE  
(defensive)  
Hey! What did I do?!

SARI  
Not you! The big, stupid Elite Guard bots. How could they let the Decepticons escape?!

BUMBLEBEE  
Oh yeah, them. Well, I think we can safely narrow it down to one big stupid bot.

Sentinel abruptly bursts onto everyone's comm. links.

SENTINEL  
Optimus! Report your status at once!

The Autobots skid to a stop and transform in front of a relatively small hangar, accept for Ratchet who pulls up to Bulkhead and Jazz, popping open his canopy door.

Carefully the pallbearers slide their fallen comrade out of the ambulance and lift the casket to chest level.

Ratchet transforms and joins Bumblebee and Sari as they follow the procession into the hangar. Optimus stands firmly at the door, letting his team enter before he does.

**Inside the Hangar**

SENTINEL  
I repeat! Explain what you and your team are doing at the Intergalactic Transport Terminal!

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(calmly replies)  
Exactly what we need to do.

SENTINEL  
No! What you need to do is get your chassis back here help prepare for a Decepticon invasion.

There's a shuttlecraft inside, only a fraction the size of Omega Supreme's ship mode. Wheeljack acknowledges the familiar faces entering the room as he removes a fuel pipe from the craft's side and closes the panel where the pump was attached.

JAZZ  
(into comm. link)  
With all due respect, sir. We greatly outnumber the Cons right now and it'll be a while before they can get their groove on for a battle.

SENTINEL  
Jazz, if I wanted your opinion I'd...

RATCHET  
(shouts into comm. link, interrupting)  
Be wise to listen to it 'cause it's spot on, as usual!

Ratchet boards the shuttle, followed by Bulkhead and Jazz with their precious cargo.

WHEELJACK  
You guys are good to go.

Optimus places his hand on Wheeljack's shoulder.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I can't thank you enough, ol' friend.

WHEEJACK  
Ehhh, don't mention it. Security's got more important things to worry about than a slight discrepancy with shuttle access permissions.

The Autobots start boarding the shuttle.

SENTINEL  
I will not tolerate insubordination! Heroes or not, you bots are still under my authority and will follow my orders! Optimus! They're your team and each defiant action will reflect back onto your leadersh...

Optimus closes the communication frequency, cutting his superior off.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(annoyed)  
Enough of that.

The Autobot leader is the last one to board the shuttle. As he enters, he does a head count, walking down the single aisle that separates rows of paired seats, similar in layout to small Earth passenger plane.

A line of seats near the back has been folded down in order to accommodate the casket, which Jazz is securing in place with safety straps. Bumblebee and Sari are sitting together with Bulkhead directly behind, easily filling two seats and part of the aisle. The shuttle's helm is in the same room as the passenger area.

Ratchet is in the pilot's seat already twisting knobs and flipping switches.

SARI  
(impatient)  
Can you turn the oxygen on already!? I'm tired of wearing this mask.

RATCHET  
Calm yourself kid, I'm workin' on it.

BUMBLEBEE  
Why does a Cybertronian shuttle have the ability to mimic Earth's atmosphere?

BULKHEAD  
(in a matter-of-fact tone)  
This is an intergalactic transport shuttle, little buddy, built with a state of the art atmospheric simulator. They use these to taxi around visitors from other planets.

Bumblebee gawks confusingly at Bulkhead.

BUMBLEBEE  
How do you know this stuff?

The main hatch closes as the shuttle's engines hum to life. The roof of the hangar retracts and the little shuttle lifts off the ground into a wobbly hover.

The crew is slightly jostled from side to side. Optimus, who's the only one not seated, braces himself and nearly loses his footing.

RATCHET  
Better take your seat, Boss. I don't promise this'll be a smooth ride. (under his breath) Never could get the hang of these new-fangled vehicles.

Optimus staggers toward Ratchet and takes a seat next to him at the helm.

The shuttles rises up through the open roof of the hangar, turns ninety degrees and tilts forty-five, then blasts off into the black starry sky.

**ONBOARD THE SHUTTLECRAFT**

Optimus sits quietly, ignoring the mass expanse of space which he has a front row seat for.

RATCHET  
Now's not the time to question our actions, Optimus.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
The Decepticons weren't in the picture before we planned this, though. You know as well as I do they'll want to collect the remaining All Spark fragments on Earth.

RATCHET  
(slightly agitated)  
Then we'll deal with them after we've properly laid our friend to rest.

Optimus looks over his shoulder to the back of the shuttle where Jazz sits vigil next to the casket. The Autobot leader's spark sinks heavily inside his chest as he turns to face forward again.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Prowl respected that planet more than any of us, but is it really suitable to bury him there?

RATCHET  
(even more agitated)  
He died to protect that planet, Sir. I suggest you stop second guessing yourself for sake of everyone's processor stability.

Optimus looks up, taking the vast starry spectacle into his optics.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
You're right, Ratchet...(sighs) You're right.

**DINOBOT ISLAND - LABORATORY**

Grimlock, in robot mode, enters the lab, carrying an unconscious middle-aged man dressed in a long white lab coat. Blackarachnia is fixed on images of the human brain on the computer screen, but quickly shifts her attention to Grimlock.

She leaves the computer, passing by the operating table where a colorless seeker's body lay, spark chamber open and glinting with a slight flicker.

GRIMLOCK  
Here is squishy you ask Grimlock to bring you.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Excellent!

She takes the man from Grimlock's grasp, showing no signs of gratitude toward her pet and briskly walks back to the operating table.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Finally, all the components are in my possession.

Grimlock is slightly put off by her lack of interest in his achievements and transforms into robot mode in hopes that will draw more attention her.

GRIMLOCK  
Explain once more to Grimlock, why you want to bring evil Decepticon back to life?

She lays the human on the edge of the table, next the mech body's leg.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Because, my dear, deep within this evil Con's incredibly resilient spark, there's a brilliant scientist imprisoned for far too long by delusions of grandeur. (running her claws across the human's forehead) I intend to use one scientific mind to liberate the other.

GRIMLOCK  
(confused)  
How you gonna use human mind without hurting human?

Her two stingers violently impale the human's chest, his body immediately convulsing, but he remains unconscious.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Who said I wasn't going to harm him?

Grimlock is shocked and backs away in horror. She pulls her stingers from the now limp and lifeless body.

GRIMLOCK  
But, harming humans baaaad!

BLACKARACHNIA  
Who told you that...Optimus Prime? (she reaches for a large scalpel from a tray next to the table) He's the last bot you should take lessons of morality from.

GRIMLCOK  
No, you wrong! Optimus bossy but he not bad.

Blackarachnia snaps her focus to Grimlock, stiffly pointing the scalpel at him.

BLACKARACHINA  
Then why don't go follow him around and leave me to my work, you overgrown iguana!

She unremorsefully returns her attention to the corpse. Grimlock stands silently for a moment, stricken with confusion and disappointment, then turns and walks toward the exit.

GRIMLOCK  
(quietly to himself, heartbroken)  
Perhaps Grimlock do as Spiderlady say, one last time.


	3. Brainpower

**CYBERTRON - ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS**

Chromia slides out from behind a door marked "Space Bridge Control Room". She looks left down the hallway then nearly jumps out of her chassis when Sentinel, who's on her right side, taps on her shoulder.

SENTINEL  
Chromia, what are you doing here? You should be debriefing with the council.

CHROMIA  
(processor racing)  
I, uh..well I was...

SENTINEL  
C'mon, spit it out.

CHROMIA  
I...took pity on Optimus Prime and his team and agreed to deliver some supplies down to earth. I know we should be on high alert of any Decepticon activity, but...

She ceases her surprisingly convincing story once Sentinel relaxes intimidating stance. The gullible fool brings his hand up to her shoulder, lightly resting it there.

SENTINEL  
(sighs with disappointment)  
Look, I'm affected by their loss too, but am I the only level head around here who's trying operate by the book?

His hand gently shifts to her face and he lifts her chin with his fore finger.

SENTINEL  
I would hope you, of all bots, would be getting my back right now.

She wants to cringe but forces a sympathetic smile.

CHROMIA  
(pandering)  
I do...my commander. But even you can't be expected to maintain absolute control over everything that happens during such tumultuous times.

SENTINEL  
(offended)  
Of course I can, I am acting Magnus!

She coercible grabs his hand with both of hers and begins leading him down the hallway.

CHROMIA  
And a fine one at that, but even a Magnus needs to sit back once in a while and put a little faith in his subordinates.

SENTINEL  
I did! I trusted Ironhide and Cliffjumper to a task which was obviously too much for them to handle.

He simmers down a notch as his confidence is boosted by the femme's reliable adoration. She slider her right arm under his left, linking them as they walk side by side.

SENTINEL  
Is Brawn awake yet? Has he shed anymore light as to what went wrong?

CHROMIA  
Unfortunately, no. Thank Primus he's still online, though.

SENTINEL  
Thank Primus, YOU'RE online! That's the last time I let you play soldier.

She smiles and gazes up at him, a twinkle glinting from her optics.

CHROMIA_  
Why don't you rot in the inferno already._  
I promise, it won't happen again, sir.

He satisfyingly smiles back down at her, pleased that his companion is willing to acknowledge the traditional role of a femme.

SENTINEL  
So, what supplies did you send to Optimus and his team?

CHROMIA  
Ohhh, just a stack of energon and other odds and ends.

**EARTH - LAKE EERIE SHORE - NIGHT**

Four large silhouettes and a stack of cubes materialize onto a secluded beach of Lake Eerie. They are surrounded by tall trees and dense shrubbery. From across the lake, city lights twinkle but their glow is soon overwhelmed by the pink radiation of energon.

MEGATRON  
Blitzwing, Lugnut...pack up these cubes.

LUGNUT  
(eagerly)  
Yes, my Lord.

Lugnut obligingly transforms and opens the hatch to his cargo hold.

ICY BLITZWING  
(not so eager)  
Vis all due respect, my Lord, vhy must ve continue our operations on zis primitive planet? Zer are ozer sources of energy in zee universe.

LUGNUT  
(annoyed)  
Stop questioning our leader and load the cubes!

Blitzwing's face swishes to Hothead as he picks up a cube and chucks it through the opening in Lugnut.

MEGATRON  
(dismissive of their actions)  
This primitive planet is still harboring pieces to the All Spark. Those ninja bots were only able to harness the shards within the city, but several lay in the outskirts, possibly within this very forest.

SHOCKWAVE  
(looking across the lake)  
I assume that's Detroit.

MEGATRON  
Correct. The Autobots will undoubtedly base there again.

SHOCKWAVE  
Where do you suggest we station ourselves?

Megatron squats down next to the stack of energon and picks a device up from the ground.

MEGATRON  
Ideally, among allies.

He switches the device on, small lights beaming to life which illuminate the sharp features on the Decepticon leader's face. He rises from the undignified squatted position and adjusts some settings on the devices' interface.

SHOCKWAVE  
Splendid, she didn't forget to include the energy signature tracker, not that I doubted her...she's quite the remarkable femme.

MEGATRON  
Deceiving the Autobots isn't what I consider a glorious achievement, but I am impressed by her perseverance. Only time will measure the extent of her loyalty.

A small dot flashes on the tracker's screen.

MEGATRON  
(focused on tracker)  
Ahh, there you are.

**DINOBOT ISLAND - LABORATORY**

Blackarachnia hovers over the seeker's body, delicately grasping the All Spark fragment in one hand and a human brain in the other. She slowly lowers the fragment into Starscream's spark chamber, his faint spark growing brighter as the fragment gets closer. Suddenly, a electric jolt bursts from his spark and wraps around her hand as if it were reaching for the fragment. She releases her grip on the powerful trinket, dropping it into the open chest cavity of her patient. The electricity begins surging throughout the dormant Decepticon's body and his colors slowly fade in through the hues of gray.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(in a state of awe)  
I guess it's now or never!

She gently places the brain into the blinding glow, then steps back to marvel at her creation.

The fleshy tissues slowly disintegrate as blue jolts continue to race throughout the seeker's body, heavily concentrating on his head. The familiar metallic red features of Megatron's deceitful second are now vibrant.

Starscream pops his optics wide open then cuts loose a shrill screech of agony.

Blackarachnia's eyes widen and she backs up even more, practically tripping over the instrument tray.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(worried)  
I hope I don't regret this.

He fiercely grips the edges of the table, growling through gritted teeth. The electricity has shifted its full concentration to his head. He painstakingly sits ups, drawing his hands to glowing chaos surrounding his face.

STARSCREAM  
(shrieking)  
What is happening to my processor circuitry!!??

He shifts his legs off the table turning his back to the techno-organic, still unaware of her presence. He then falls in a heap on the floor, hidden from Blackarachnia's view by the table.

She inches forward, straining to see more than just a blue glow, but afraid to get any closer.

The electric jolts start retreating until they are merely sputtering flashes in the seeker's spark chamber.

Blackarachnia cautiously inches forward.

A black arm slams down on the table, shortly followed by the other and the weakened but fully conscious winged Decepticon pulls himself to his feet. He slams his spark chamber shut and locks his glowing red optics onto the techno-organic.

STARSCREAM  
(voice crescendo's from whisper to scream)  
Blackarachnia, will you please explain what, in the name of everything holy worth giving a spark for, IS GOING ON!?

Her fear morphs to joy.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You...you know my name. But I need to make sure you have more than just your memory. Quickly, uh…what discovery was made by the German scientist, Friedrich Wohler?

STARSCREAM  
(without a second thought)  
In 1828 he synthesized urea by reacting together ammonium chloride and silver cyanate, therefore unveiling the first conclusive evidence that organic compounds could be produced outside of living systems, but what has that got to do with...(he pauses, confused). Why do I know Earth's history of organic chemistry? (he brings his hands to his cockpit). Why does my spark chamber feel...impure?!!

Blackarachnia springs over to him, grabbing his hands and bouncing up and down like a hyper child.

BLACKARACHNIA  
It worked! It actually worked, I can't believe it!!

Starscream stares at her with absolute confusion, then yanks his hands from hers, raising his fists above his head, priming his temper its grand entrance.

STARSCREAM  
(shouting full blast)  
For the last time will you tell me what is going...

His tantrum is interrupted by a deep voice coming from the femme's comm. link.

MEGATRON  
Blackarachnia, are you there?

Starscream freezes a moment, then relaxes.

STARSCREAM  
(quietly)  
Megatron!? (a grin spreads across his face)

Blackarachnia's excited state is replaced with puzzlement.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Megatron, is that you? But I thought you were...

MEGATRON  
I was...but now I'm back on Earth and in need of sanctuary. (Starscream leans in curiously) Rumor has it your current residence is more than accommodating for a fractured Decepticon army, in need of rest and reformation.

STARSCREAM  
Interesting...

She quickly slaps her hand over the mouth of the strangely calm traitor.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(questioning)  
Ummm....who told you...

MEGATRON  
(agitated)  
I have my sources, now are you willing to redeem your vigilante activities or shall I apprehend your facilities by force?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(filling with paranoia)  
What is your location?

**DINOBOT ISLAND**

Megatron and his followers hover above a dense jungle. He's still holding the tracking device, which flashes it's green light excitedly like a bloodhound barking at a foxhole.

MEGATRON  
(into comm. link)  
Hmmm, I assume your hidden underneath all this accursed organic material.

**INSIDE LABORATORY**

Blackarachnia freaks out.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Oh maternal unit of Primus, he's on the island!

STARSCREAM  
(rubbing his hands together)  
This should be fun.

She darts behind Starscream and attempts to shove him toward the main entry hallway.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You need to disappear!

STARSCREAM  
(barely budging)  
If he's already in the area, then it's very likely he's found your little hideout and will be making his grand entrance any moment now, most predictably emerging from that hallway directly in front of us.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Blast, you're right! Quickly then, find someplace to hide.

She frantically dashes to the computer and starts closing windows containing diagrams of seeker blueprints.

Starscream saunters across the lab to a tightly-sealed double doorway. He reaches for the "open" button, but stops when a two sets of green fingers pry through the seam where the doors meet in the middle. The fingers separate the doors with ease and Lugnut appears behind them.

His large circular optic widens at the figure before him and he wastes no time snatching Starscream by the neck and slamming him into the wall in a chokehold.

LUGNUT  
Traitor! You shall pay for your defiance!

Blackarachnia pops her head out from behind the massive monitor, gaping at the emergence of Megatron, Blitzwing and Shockwave through the back doors of her lab. Blitzwing and Shockwave are both carrying arm loads of energon cubes.

As Megatron enters he calmly glares at Lugnut's captive, sickened by the all-too-familiar grin.

STARSCREAM  
(classic smirk)  
Surprised, oh mighty Megatron?

MEGATRON  
(wearily)  
It takes far more than your predictably invasive and annoyingly eternal presence to surprise me anymore.

Blackarachnia fires a web stream to the ceiling and swings toward the drama, landing between Megatron and Lugnut.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(to Megatron, desperately)  
Please, you must hear me out before you do anything rash. I can explain everything.

MEGATRON  
(empowered by her submissive state)  
I have no intention of wasting my reserves on that sniveling snake right now. You can drivel your pathetic excuses at me once we've all fully recharged with a proper helping of energon.

Megatron proceeds into the lab as if it were rightfully his.

MEGATRON  
In the meantime, enlighten me to the origins of this place and how you obtained it.


	4. Decepticons, BAAAAAAD!

**Author's Note: ** Thank you so much to those who have read and subscribed to my story and left reviews. Writing this screenplay has been so fun for me, that I think it's practically a hazard to my health but I hope reading it doesn't threaten yours in any way. ^_~ I'm all ears for critiques as this story is really meant to capture the feel of TFA, only with a slightly darker tone.

Thanks again for reading! ^_^

* * *

**ABANDONED FACTORY - AUTOBOT EARTH BASE - MAIN ROOM**

Sari is trying to wrestle the gaming controller out of Bumblebee's hands. "Game Over" flashes across their big screen TV.

SARI  
Let go, Bumblebee, it's my turn!

BUMBLEBEE  
Stop it already, you made me lose.

SARI  
You did that on your own.

BUMBLEBEE  
Shouldn't you be contacting your dad or something?

Ratchet hollers from across the room.

RATCHET  
Knock it off you too! Yer makin' my processor ache.

Sari loses her grip and falls back into the seat made of tires. Ratchet slowly wanders over to them, fed up with the young bots' addiction.

SARI  
I already talked to Dad and he said he'd have Space Bridge up and running by tomorrow. Now gimme that controller!

Ratchet steps in front of the TV screen, hands planted on his hips.

BUMBLEBEE  
Ah c'mon, Ratchet!

RATCHET  
Both of you need to remove yourselves from the spell of this idiot box! Bumblebee, why don't you take Sari to visit her dad.

Sari springs from the tire stack and tugs Bumblebee's arm.

SARI  
Oooo yeah, we can get milkshakes too.

Bumblebee scoots to the side, straining to see the screen behind the annoying medibot. Ratchet bends over, lining his face up with the defiant juvenile.

RATCHET  
That wasn't a request!

Bumblebee falls into a backward somersault, quickly transforms, and fires up his engines.

BUMBLEBEE  
Alright! Alright!

He zips backward into the tire seat, sending tires bouncing in every direction, then pulls forward, popping open the driver's seat door.

BUMBLEBEE  
Oops, I'll clean that up later.

RATCHET  
(building up steam)  
How many times do I gotta tell ya...

Sari hops in the compact yellow bug and they speed off.

RATCHET  
(deflates)  
...not to transform indoors**.**

**PROWL'S ROOM**

Optimus and Jazz stand next to Prowl's casket which is bathed by moonbeams breaking through the room's broken roof. Jazz reverently places his hand on the unbounded tree,

JAZZ  
Nature jives all around this city, we just gotta pick a place where he'll be safe from human discovery.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I've already obtained permission from the humans to use the preserved land on Belle Isle.

JAZZ  
Solid…You figure out your speech thang for tomorrow?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
The eulogy, as Sari called it, and um...no, not entirely. I mean, I have a general idea...What about you?

JAZZ  
(solemnly)  
I've got some words.

Grimlock's voice interrupts from the Autobot leader's comm. link.

GRIMLOCK  
Grimlock calling Optimus Prime.

Optimus looks at Jazz with confusion. Jazz shrugs.

GRIMLOCK  
Are you there, Optimus Pr...

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(into comm)  
Yes, Grimlock, I copy.

GRIMLOCK  
Me Grimlock no like being bearer of bad news, and Grimlock know he and truck bot not exactly best of friends, but Grimlock feel this news should be told to truck bot, even though it is bad news...

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(squeezing his brow)  
Okay, just spit it out already.

GRIMLOCK  
Impatient Autobot will stop interrupting Grimlock if he want to hear about Blackarachnia.

Optimus pops his eyes open with concern.

OPTIMUS  
Blackara...is she okay?

GRIMLOCK  
No, she not okay. Blackarachnia, BAAAAD!

**DINOBOT ISLAND - LABORATORY TURNED DECEPTICON BASE**

Megatron stands on the platform, which houses the mega-computer, and addresses his five followers with confident authority. They're all standing attuned to their leader, except Starscream who's toying with the disassembled pieces of the energy tracker strewn across the operating table.

MEGATRON  
Our objective is simple. Collect the All Spark fragments and avoid interaction with the Autobots, as much as possible. Starscream claims that tracker can be upgraded to seek out All Spark energy which means our time on this organic wasteland should be much shorter than the last visit.

SHOCKWAVE  
Permission to speak, my liege.

MEGATRON  
Granted.

SHOCKWAVE  
We must assume the Autobots have already anticipated our return.

MEGATRON  
Hmmm...yes, but are they able to locate us?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Maybe not right away, but Optimus Prime knows about this place and it's only a matter of time before they come sniffing around here again.

ICY BLITZWING  
Zee solution is simple, vee need a vay to distract zem.

MEGATRON  
(almost afraid to ask)  
What do you suggest we distract them with?

Hothead aggressively engulfs Icy.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
Vis my fists!

LUGNUT  
(snapping at Blitzwing)  
Megatron just said NOT to engage the Autobots!

Random replaces Hothead.

RANDOM BLITZWING  
Vhy would I engage zem? I don't even like zem! AHH-HAHAHAHAH!

Before Megatron can respond with chastisement, Starscream's voice arises through the madness.

STARSCREAM  
(not bothering to look up from his project)  
I have a suggestion.

Blackarachnia cringes with worry as Megatron shifts his attention to the pompous seeker.

STARSCREAM  
You're little spy bot on Cybertron said the Autobots were bringing their fallen comrade here, correct?

MEGATRON  
Get to the point!

STARSCREAM  
Well, why don't we put a little spring back into the ninjabot's step, courtesy of the same vulgar procedure performed on yours truly. If we merge him with, let's say, a rather unstable human personality, that would make quite a disturbance in the Autobot operations.

MEGATRON  
(simmering down)  
Hmmm...intriguing concept.

Shockwave runs a brief search on the internet then brings up a Detroit News Broadcast on the screen.

NEWSCAST  
...the convict, also know as the Motor City Murderer, is being transported from the Federal Correctional Institute in Milan, Michigan to Metropolitan Correctional Center in Chicago.

Shockwave mutes the broadcast and looks over at Megatron, who returns the glance with a wicked smile.

SHOCKEAVE  
(to Starscream)  
Is that personality unstable enough?

STARSCREAM  
Yes, quite. (to Blackarachnia) Wouldn't you agree?

Blackarachnia becomes very uneasy with the situation.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You all need to be aware that my experiment only worked because Starscream's spark wasn't completely extinguished. If you merge that psychopath's brain with an Autobot who's been offline for days...

MEGATRON  
(still smiling)  
Then we potentially create a monster...the perfect distraction for our foes.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(horrified)  
But...but what if we can't control him? What if he's a threat to us as well?

LUGNUT  
One puny Autobot is no threat to the mighty Megatron.

MEGATRON  
(one optic brow raised)  
He has a point.

BLACKARACHNIA  
But what if Prowl's personality engulfs the human's?

MEGATRON  
I'm trusting it won't, given the simple fact that I haven't been blasted in the back from a set of null ray cannons yet. (he glances suspiciously at his former second-in-command, briefly doubting the logic of his argument) Starscream, how long do I have to wait for that tracker to be functional?

The reborn scientist still doesn't bother to look up at Megatron, but is quick to respond.

STARSCREAM  
Patience, oh great one...you must not rush genius.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(now pleading with Megatron)  
We can't do that to Prowl...it's...it's just not right. There's no honor in it.

Megatron loses his patience with the femme and abruptly raises his arm cannon, aiming directly at her head. Flinching, she staggers back a couple steps as all other optics in the room are locked onto the unfolding drama.

MEGATRON  
(speaking to everyone)  
A true Decepticon finds honor in following their leader. Tell me Blackarachnia, is the Decepticon cause your top priority or do you care only for regaining your original Autobot form? That symbol you bear isn't a mere fashion statement, and it can easily be removed with one blast.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(relenting)  
Megatron please...the only reason I want my true form back is so I can serve the Decepticon cause with all my spark. This organic burden inhibits my potential as a powerful soldier in your ranks.

Megatron lowers his weapon and turns away with waning interest.

MEGATRON  
Spare me your mindless praises...I hear it enough from Lugnut.

Lugnut straightens his posture, unsure if his leader's reference was flattery or mockery.

Blackarachnia shamefully regains her composure and catches a smirk from Starscream, who resumes his attention back on the energy tracker, which is now fully assembled. He switches it on and makes a few adjustments.

STARSCREAM  
(boldly shattering the tense silence)  
Anyone game for the human sport of golf?

Megatron is sapped of patience at this point and snaps at Starscream.

MEGATRON  
Unless you have something constructive to contribute, keep your mouth...

STARSCREAM  
(dismissively interrupting)  
There appears to be a strong reading of All Spark energy radiating from the Detroit Golf Club.

Shockwave immediately opens a satellite map of Michigan on the large monitor.

SHOCKWAVE  
Bring that device here so I can pull up a visual on the fragment's exact coordinates.

Starscream rises and proudly strides to the mega-computer, flashing a told-you-so expression at Megatron who can't suppress his curiosity at his antagonizer's discovery. He hands Shockwave the device then leans back against the console, crossing his arms with a look of satisfaction.

Megatron and the other Decepticons advance toward the computer, eyes locked on the screen.

SHOCKWAVE  
Assuming Starscream's invention is working properly, we will find our fragment at the bottom of this small body of water...

STARSCREAM  
It's called a pond.

SHOCKWAVE  
(annoyed by being corrected)  
...within the human's sporting grounds which lie approximately 8.5 miles north of Detroit's city center.

MEGATRON  
Excellent work, Shockwave.

Starscream glowers at his leader's misplacement of praise

MEGATRON  
Lugnut! Blitzwing! Take the tracker and retrieve that shard.

Shockwave hands the tracker to Lugnut.

LUGNUT  
We do as we are commanded, oh mighty Megatron.

Lugnut takes the device and is joined by his partner as they head toward the exit.

MEGATRON  
Blackarachnia and Starscream, I want you to bring me the Autobot Prowl WITHOUT engaging the Autobots. Can I depend on you for such a task or do I have to send Shockwave along to insure your obedience.

Shockwave cringes at his leader's threat, insulted by the mere idea of being a chaperone.

STARSCREAM  
(just shy of sincere)  
Oh, you can depend on us, Megatron.

The seeker strolls down from the platform and heads toward the exit.

STARSCREAM  
We won't let you down. (shifting focus to the predacon) Let's go...partner.

Blackarachnia reluctantly follows her strangely eager creation.

Megatron's interrogative glare follows the two until they leave the room, then sets aside his warranted doubt in order to focus on the next issue at hand.

MEGATRON  
Once we've found a way to produce energon from the All Spark fragments, we will return to Cybertron and rebuild the forsaken city of Kaon into a grand staging ground of our uprising. The bitter, downtrodden population, discarded by the Autobots, will gratefully join my ranks, and together, we will conduct the finest Decepticon comeback in all of Cybertronian history.

SHOCKWAVE  
It's a solid plan, my liege.

MEGATRON  
Yeeees, but first things first…(raises a brow toward Shockwave) you and I must return to prison.

Shockwave sits puzzled for a moment, then spins in his chair after solving the riddle, averting all attention back to the computer.

SHOCKWAVE  
Of course, my Lord. I will locate the exact whereabouts of this "convict" at once.


	5. Not as planned

**ABOVE DETROIT**

Starscream flies high above the tall buildings and twinkling lights, but not in his preferred jet mode. He's forced to carry Blackarachnia, neither of them pleased by the situation.

STARSCREAM  
You know, I have an aero-dynamic alt-mode FOR A REASON.

BLACKARACHNIA  
This was your idea! I am perfectly capable of transporting myself.

STARSCREAM  
Your little web swinging acrobatics are slow and primitive. I just want to get this mindless mission over with.

BLACKARACHNIA  
We wouldn't be on this mission if you'd kept your processes to yourself. I haven't seen you bend to Megatron's will so eagerly in...well, ever!

STARSCREAM  
You can blame yourself for that. I can no longer justify a personal uprising against Megatron due to this organic's logical influence on my neural processes.

BLACKARACHNIA  
So, what you're saying is...you've finally learned from your past mistAAAAAHHHHHH!

Starscream drops his passenger before she can finish her thought, screams of anger dissolving as she nearly disappears in the glare of city lights.

After a long and satisfying moment, the prankster transforms with lightning reflexes and speeds in her direction.

Blackarachnia frantically prepares for the ultimate web swinging stunt as the skyscrapers menacingly increase in size, but suddenly, a familiar blur of red and gray appears beside her.

Starscream transforms out of jet mode and valiantly catches the falling femme.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(raging)  
That wasn't funny, you…!!

STARSCREAM  
Shhhhh! We mustn't alert the humans to our presence.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What!!? The entire city can hear your slaggin' engines for miles!

STARSCREAM  
Your opinions do not interest me. Now, where's this factory?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(voice wavering, teeth gritting)  
About two miles east, but we need a plan. If Prowl's body is even there, they'll most likely have it securely guarded.

STARSCREAM  
Then you'll just have to lure them out of the building while I sneak in and find the body.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(simmering down)  
That shouldn't be too difficult. My last encounter with Optimus Prime wasn't completely hostile...in fact, we even helped each other out a bit. (she lets a dopey smile sneak across her cheeks).

STARSCREAM  
(disgusted by her display)  
Could you be anymore transparent?

BLACKARACHNIA  
What are you talking about?

STARSCREAM  
You should really learn to hide your treacherous intentions if you want Megatron to allow our little procedure to take place.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You're one to talk!

STARSCREAN  
My treacheries never involved flinging myself back into Optimus Prime's embrace once I became pretty enough for his standards. Megatron can forgive attempts to overthrow his command because that is the natural course of the Decepticon way, but he has zero tolerance for turncoats.

BLACKARACHNIA  
How dare you assume...those aren't my intentions at all...my organic form is a burden, suppressing my true power.

STARSCREAN  
I don't buy that story at all and I highly doubt our leader does either. If you want me to resurrect your true form then you'd better fabricate a reason that coincides with Megatron's energon-seeking agenda. Otherwise he'll keep me swamped with inventing gadgets and upgrading weapons and such.

Blackarachnia is left speechless by her creation's verbal slap in the face.

As the pair continue their steady course east, a dilapidated factory soon comes into view.

STARSCREAM  
Is it typical for a tree to be growing out of the Autobot base?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Yeah…that's the place.

Starscream cuts power to his turbines and glides silently down toward their destination. He zooms his optic sensors onto a object visible through the hole in the building's roof.

STARSCREAM  
That can't be what I think it is.

He zooms in further and clearly makes out a black casket bearing a signature Cybertronian design. Next to it sits the Autobot leader, by himself, immersed in thought.

STARSCREAM  
Oh, this is too easy. You ready to perform?

BLACKARACHNIA  
I guess so.

STARSCREAM  
Signal me when the coast is clear. After I grab the body, you need to make a quick exit, and I mean quick! No reminiscing over...

BLACKARACHNIA  
(sternly interrupting)  
Once I coerce him out of the room, I'll meet you by that billboard in five cycles.

Starscream drops his partner into the upper branches of Prowl's tree.

The rustling of leaves startles Optimus from his concentrative state. He springs up, instinctively equipping his axe.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Who's there!? Show yourself!

Blackarachnia slides down from the density of branches, snapping twigs and displacing leaves as she descends on a single silken rope, smile plastered across her face.

BLACKARACHNIA  
At ease soldier.

OPTIMUS PRIMUS  
(more disgusted than surprised)  
What do YOU want? Haven't you done enough harm lately?

Blackarachnia is taken back by his hostile greeting, but maintains her cool as she touches down on the floor and retracts her web.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Let me guess, Grimlock got to you.

The Autobot grows uncomfortable as the predacon brazenly sways up to him and breaches his comfort zone, but he forces himself to maintain the unwavering defensive stance.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Yeah, he told me all about your disregard for human life.

The femme slides her hand up and starts running her fingers along the axe's handle.

BLACKARACHNIA  
It's sad really, the senseless lies that'll spew from the lips of the broken sparked. Poor Grimlock, I tried to break it to him gently...

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(not budging)  
Why are you here?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(pauses for a moment of sincerity)  
Prowl was a…unique bot…diamond in the rough, if you'll pardon the cliché. I always admired his ability to rise above the relentless Autobot propaganda.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Which he did without replacing his Autobot sigil. You could learn a lot from him.

She fights back a spiteful response and curiously peers around the Autobot at the large black capsule behind him. Her sleek clawed fingers continue up the axe's handle until they reach the firm blue hand of the weapon's wielder.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I would like to attend his memorial. Can't we just…(raising the corner of her mouth) bury the hatchet for one day and surround our dear comrade with an atmosphere of peace? (lightly tugs his hand) Let's take a walk...it's such a lovely nigh--

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(still not budging)  
You no longer have any concept of peace. I highly suggest that you leave this room, right now.

Blackarachnia's spark drops in her chest. She scowls as the seductive semi-act fizzles away, saddened and irritated at what her former confidant's stubbornness is forcing her to do.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Once again, Optimus, you assume the worst...

She bitterly turns her back to him and discretely raises her hand to the side of her helmet.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(whispers into comm. link)  
Plan B.

Sensing that the Autobot has slightly lowered his guard, she transforms in a snap and hurls a large circular web at him.

BLACKARACHNIA  
...and once again, the WORST is what you'll receive!

STARSCREAM  
(from her comm.)  
We never made a Plan B!

BLACKARACHNIA  
Just get in here and take the body, quickly!

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(encumbered by the web)  
WHAT!? NO!!

Optimus Prime's arms are pinned to his sides by the sticky silk, but he's still able to maneuver his axe and starts hacking away at the fibers.

Stingers cocked forward, Blackarachnia advances on her prey.  
Optimus fires a swift kick at her, flipping the arachnid onto her back, her legs twitching and wriggling from the inconvenient position.

With one final stroke, Optimus frees himself from the webbing but is immediately slammed to the floor by Starscream's feet.

A single precise blast from the seeker's arm cannon springs open the casket's lid.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
NOOO! Blackarachnia, you can't do this!

The predacon transforms and gracefully rises to her feet. She blasts a web into her assailant's face, blinding and muting him in one shot.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(wavering voice)  
Sure I can. According to you, I have no concept of right from wrong anymore!

STARSCREAM  
Quit your dramatics and get the body!

Blackarachnia reluctantly approaches the edge of the casket, spark shrinking in her chest as she peers down upon the surreal grey form.

Optimus Primes rages a series of mumbles from behind the webbed mask and struggles to free his arms from the pressure of Starscream's feet.

The seeker quickly averts his attention toward the door at the sound of stomping footsteps, growing louder.

STARSCREAM  
Hurry it up before our advantage is lost!

The femme shudders as she slides her hands under the lifeless hero and gently lifts him into her arms.

Suddenly, a voice booms from behind the room's closed door.

BULKHEAD  
Optimus! Is everything okay in there? (he casually opens the door) I thought I heard some... (he freezes, gaping at the nightmare before him) RATCHET, JAZZ, GET IN HERE NOW!

The hulking Autobot wastes no time in launching his signature weapon at Starscream, who anticipates the assault and barely evades the furious wrecking ball. He launches off Optimus Prime, inadvertently melting away his captive's blindfold with the blast from his jetted feet.

The nimble seeker snatches up both his partner and the ninja, igniting his thrusters to maximum power and zipping up and out through the gaping ceiling.

Jazz and Ratchet burst into the room. Bulkhead is retracting his weapon and Optimus Prime has already rolled over on his back, forearm aiming at the kidnappers. He launches his grappling hook but its speed is no match to Starscream's.

Jazz gracefully bounds up the tree, nunchucks readied, but all he can do watch as two burning turbines vanish into the night.

JAZZ  
(suppressing panic)  
Please tell me we have an energy tracker!

Ratchet gapes in heart-broken disbelief but somehow manages to keep an air of control.

RATCHET  
The shuttle has an Autobot energy signature tracker, but it's useless for hunting Decepticons.

Bulkhead, still trembling with rage, helps his soot-blackened leader to his feet.

BULKHEAD  
What could Megatron possibly want with Prowl?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(wiping soot from his face)  
Was that Starscream or one of his clones?

BULKHEAD  
That was the real deal.

RATCHET  
Which tells us Megatron isn't the mastermind behind this. Starscream and Blackarachnia aren't exactly his typical errand-bots.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Yes, but since when do those two work as a team?

Jazz drops down from the tree.

JAZZ  
(fighting to keep his vocals smooth)  
Megatron's lust for revenge is no doubt infecting all the Decepticons and they intend to hit us where it hurts the most.

BULKHEAD  
(on the verge of breaking)  
But...how does Prowl fit into that?

Jazz turns in disgust, stowing his weapons and retreating to the corner of the room. He slides into the Lotus position with an uncharacteristic wobble.

Optimus Prime rests a reassuring hand on Bulkhead's arm, but can't suppress his own trembling chassis.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I don't know, Bulkhead...but I know someone who may offer us a spark of insight. (activating comm.) Grimlock, come in!

Ratchet and Bulkhead look upon their leader with pondering optics.

There's a tense moment of static.

GRIMLOCK  
(from Optimus' comm.)  
This is the mighty Grimlock speaking. Is that you, Optimus Prime?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Yes, it's me. Grimlock, I need you to explain in detail what scientific experiment Blackarachnia was working on.

GRIMLOCK  
(saddened)  
Ohhh, why Autobot have to remind Grimlock of sad experience. Me Grimlock no want to talk about that anymore.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Grimlock please, it's very, very important. Just, please, tell me everything you remember.

GRIMLOCK  
(after a reluctant pause)  
Okay, if it important than Grimlock will tell story.

**DETROIT GOLF CLUB - WEE HOURS OF THE MORNING**

A shrill voice rips through the peaceful harmony of frogs and crickets.

RANDOM BLITZWING  
Fooooouuuuurrrrr!

The deranged Deception has an uprooted tree raised above his head. With a powerfully graceful stroke, he slams the gnarled roots of it into a rock the size of a basketball.

Lugnut stands knee deep in a small pond, one massive arm submerged, the other holding the tracking device which beeps frantically. He's minutely distracted but more annoyed by yet another splash from a basketball-sized projectile.

LUGNUT  
Once again, Blitzwing, you make your worth vividly apparent.

The hulking mech pulls up a dripping claw, which opens up to reveal several muddy golf balls. He grumbles as he tosses the useless findings over his shoulder and plunges his claw back into the abyss. He fumbles around for a few moments then stops, optic widening with excitement.

LUGNUT  
I think I got it!

A blue glow grows brighter from the pond's depths as Lugnut displaces gallons of water with the quick resurfacing of his massive arm.

LUGNUT  
(ecstatic)  
Yes, here it is! We must return...

A large rock strikes Lugnut in the head.

LUGNUT  
Ouch!

RANDOM BLITZWING  
(arms raised triumphantly)  
Finally a hole in one! Or should I say a hole in your head. OOHH-HAHAHAHAH!

Lugnut is about to unleash a fit of rage, but he's distracted by new activity blinking and beeping from the tracker. He carefully studies the device, letting his jaw drop with surprise.

The absence of his partner's angry retort is reason enough for Blitzwing to call upon his Icy presence.

ICY BLITZWING  
(approaching with curiosity)  
Vhat is it?

LUGNUT  
The tracker is reporting a second source of All Spark energy nearby.

ICY BLITZWING  
Zen let us retrieve zat one as vell.

Lugnut stows the newly found shard in his storage compartment and merges all attention onto the tracker.

LUGNUT  
Yes, YES. Guide us! Megatron will be so pleased. (he powers up his turbines) Come, Blitzwing. The tracker is pointing us southwest.

Lugnut blasts off and Blitzwing follows close behind, pleased that the mission has taken a turn for the entertaining, allowing his hyperactive alter-ego to remain sequestered.

ICY BLITZWING  
It vill be nice for a change to actually exceed Megatron's expectations. I know he hasn't been very pleased with our previous escapades on zis planet.

LUGNUT  
Speak for yourself! My failures of the past are no fault of my own and are partially due to your erratic behavior.

ICY BLITZWING  
Don't blame me...blame zis dreadful planet and the curse it's afflicted on us. I vill be so happy once our experiences here are noszing more zan a distant memory.

LUGNUT  
For once, we can actually agree on something.


	6. Nightmare Rising

**DOWNTOWN DETROIT**

Optimus Prime, Jazz, Ratchet and Bulkhead speed down the expressway, sirens blaring. Captain Fanzone's voice barks through all the Autobots' dashboard comms.

FANZONE  
This darn well better be an emergency if yer wakin' me up at four in the morning!

OPTIMUS PRIME  
More than you can imagine, Captain.

BULKHEAD  
The Decepticon's took Prowl to Dinobot Island and their gonna do some freaky science stuff on him.

FANZONE  
What? Prowl? But he's...

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(interrupting)  
We need access to a police boat.

FANZONE  
(still shocked)  
Um...sure thing.

OPTIMUS  
How soon can you get us on the water?

FANZONE  
Uh...gimme an hour at the most.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Thank you, Captain. We'll meet you at the harbor. (switching frequencies) Bumblebee, do you copy?...(silence)...Bumblebee, come in!...(silence)...Ugh, his stasis mode is unbreakable sometimes.

**SUMDAC TOWER**

Sari and Bumblebee are passed out in front of the big screen TV in Sari's room. Bumblebee is seated in an oversized beanbag chair, still gripping a gaming controller. Sari is face down at the foot of her bed. Their duet of snoring is rudely overwhelmed by a loud, gravely voice booming from Bumblebee's comm. link.

RATCHET  
(scolding)  
Bumblebee, get your processor outta dreamland and answer your comm!

Bumblebee and Sari burst to life, instilled with a fear that only a Decepticon attack could provoke.

BUMBLEBEE  
Yow!! 'Oly Primus, where's the fire? I'm up!

SARI  
(groggily sitting up)  
Jeez Ratchet, what's the big deal?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
The Decepticons have...well, done something…bad.

BUMBLEBEE  
How is this breaking news?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Just, meet us at the harbor, I'll explain everything there.

Bumblebee and Sari look at each other with worry, both of them sensing the uneasiness in their leader's voice.

SARI  
C'mon Optimus, what's the story? They find another piece to the All Spark or something?

The Autobot leader can't seem to muster the courage to break the news. He himself could barely swallow the pattern of incessant tragedies they were facing, but withholding such information from his young friends wasn't going to make it any better.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(solemnly)  
The Decepticons have outdone themselves this time, sinking to a depth that even a Quintesson might shudder at…and I was unable to stop them.

BUMBLEBEE  
(anxiously intervening)  
Prime, for the love of the Matrix, just tell us what happened.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(dripping with shame)  
They took Prowl's body.

Optimus' news paralyzes the young bots into a state of disbelief.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Just get to the harbor, I'll fill you in on the details later. Prime out.

Sari's checks out, sinking deep into a dark corner of her mind.

SARI  
(barely audible)  
Bumblebee, how could this happen?

The girl's voice prevents Bumblebee from losing himself to a rush of emotions he didn't know existed. He can see a crippling despair in the glowing blue optics of his friend, but can't remember ever witnessing her in such an extreme state of helplessness. This overwhelms his spark with a dark feeling, one that he's not used to experiencing but immediately acknowledges as vengeance. Still holding the game controller, he wraps his fingers around it, completely engulfing it in his grasp until its casing cracks from the sheer pressure.

BUMBLEBEE  
(under his breath)  
Now they've gone too far.

His cooling systems instinctually kick in, jolting the small bot from his uncharacteristically enraged state.

He looks down at his hand and releases his grip on the controller, letting its pieces slide out down to the floor. He shamefully raises the destructive hand up, knowing too well there are better uses for it at the moment, and reaches out through the thicket of despair to his friend in need.

BUMBLEBEE  
Come on, Sari. We gotta go.

Her eyes are still glazed over but she instinctively grabs his hand.

SARI  
This is a nightmare...it's gotta be.

BUMBLEBEE  
It is a nightmare, but it's also our reality and the boss bot needs us. Both of us.

SARI  
(coming to)  
Both of us?

BUMBLEBEE  
(optimistic)  
Well ya, both of us. I need you too...I need you strong and sharp, like a ninja's blade.

Sari lets single tear escape down her cheek as she rises from the bed.

SARI  
I can do strong…and sharp.

BUMBLEBEE  
(guiding her toward the door)  
Of course you can!

SARI  
(vengefully)  
I can serve up a fat plate of justice to anyone who dares defile the afterlife of our friend.

BUMBLEBEE  
Now you're surfing my wavelength!

Sari tightens her grip on Bumblebee's hand and dashes for the door, dragging him along behind her.

SARI  
Those cowardly 'cons just opened a seriously pissed off can of worms!

**DINOBOT ISLAND - DECEPTICON BASE - NEAR DAWN**

Prowl's hollow shell is laid out on the operating table, spark chamber open. A human brain, encased in a jar full of liquid sits on the instrument tray next to the table.

Starscream picks up each tool from the tray, one at a time, closely inspecting their quality.

Blackarachnia leans bitterly against the mega-computer next to Shockwave, who's diligently tapping away at the keys.

Megatron is standing tall on the other side of Shockwave, pressing the spiderbot with a disapproving glare.

MEGATRON  
Exactly what part of "do not engage the Autobots" was unclear to you?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(firmly defensive)  
It was unavoidable, Megatron. Trust me.

Megatron grits his teeth at the suggestion of trust, but he's distracted by the emergence of his own visage on the monitor, illuminated with flashing red and blue lights, accompanied by Shockwave who carries a man in an orange jumpsuit.

STARSCREAM  
(peering up at the monitor)  
Apparently, engaging the human law enforcement and their television cameras is acceptable protocol.

MEGATRON  
(glancing down at Starscream)  
I don't need to justify our actions to the likes of you. (shifts his optics to the contents in the jar and growls) I'm grow tired of waiting…Shockwave! Track the whereabouts of those two unreliable glitches.

SHOCKWAVE  
I cannot, my liege, they have our only tracking device.

The Decepticon leader slams his fists on the console.

MEGATRON  
Blast it!…(sharply points to the science bot) Starscream! You're next project is to build me another tracker.

STARSCREAM  
(still lacking complete sincerity)  
Whatever you say, Megatron.

MEGATRON  
(into comm. link)  
Lugnut! Report at once!

There's a long tense moment before Lugnut's voices booms through the main computer's comm. link.

LUGNUT  
Forgive us, oh great leader, but our operation has been delayed by a series of malfunctions with the tracking device.

Megatron impales Starscream with a hateful glance.

LUGNUT  
But rest assured, we will return to you soon with the shard and without anymore set backs. Lugnut out.

STARSCREAM  
(offended by Lugnut's accusations)  
Lies! My tracker is infallible. He's hiding something Megatron, I can hear it in his voice.

MEGATRON  
Given both of your track records, I'm more inclined to believe him!

STARSCREAM  
(snaps back with irritation)  
That's because, as usual, your judgment is flawed…but suit yourself. Take his word over mine...

Each of Starscream's words threaten the stability of Megatron's increasingly volatile tolerance level. Shockwave and Blacharachnia wince at the familiar sounds of their leader's signature weapon charging up.

STARSCREAM  
(continued)  
...soon you'll find yourself sliding back into your classic pattern of one foolishly arrogant misjudgment after the other. Face it, Megatron, you…

Megatron raises his arm canon in a split second and fires a blast at the overly verbose science bot's head. The surge of firepower singes the side of his helm and the top edge of his wing, then continues it's path behind the seeker, blasting a gaping a hole in the lab wall.

Megatron storms down from the platform, snatches Starscream by the neck, drags the ingrate behind him and continues to fire massive explosions into the wall.

STARSCREAM  
(genuinely frightened for his life)  
Have you completely fried your sanity circuits?

Impervious to the cloud of dust and falling rocks, Megatron drags his captive into the opening. He aims his arm canon upward and resumes blasting a passage through the seemingly impenetrable earth and tangle of roots.

BLACKARACHINA  
(face buried in her clawed hand)  
It was only a matter of time.

SHOCKWAVE  
(shaking his head)  
Arrogant fool.

The barrage continues without remorse until a ray of sunlight infiltrate's the dark, freshly-carved passageway. Megatron fires one final shot into the light source, which causes it to expand ten-fold, showering them with one final pounding of dirt and rocks.

He flies into the blinding light, tosses Starscream face down into a heap of fallen leaves, then resolutely touches down on forest floor.

Starscream violently grasps at the leaves as he twists up into a shameful seated sprawl. He locks burning optics onto his attacker.

The powerful gladiator stands motionless, silhouetted by the morning rays, then vents a long exhale that seems to mimic the mood of his arm cannon as it powers down. He opens with a threatening, guttural voice.

MEGATRON  
What is your major malfunction?

STARSCREAM  
(hysterical)  
MY malfunction!!??

Starscream was fearful, not of his attacker's potential for carnal retaliation, but because he couldn't ever recall Megatron behaving in such a manner and therefore he couldn't predict his next move.

MEGATRON  
(uncharacteristically calm)  
Is it really necessary to vocalize every passing impulse, without an ounce of tact, and under the false assumption that you're immune to my wrath simply because you can construct a few little gadgets?

STARSCREAM  
(trying to hide his fear with disgust)  
Constructing a few little gadgets is only a taste of what I'm capable of. You need me.

MEGATRON  
Hardly. Your newly-acquired genius is conveniently useful for the time being, but mark my words, Starscream, you are replaceable and if you continue your current display of disrespect for me, especially in the presence of your fellow subordinates, I will exile you to the outer reaches of oblivion where even your relentless spark will be eternally imprisoned.

Starscream, for once, is left speechless, knowing well he's been verbally outgunned but tries his hardest not to relay this acknowledgement of defeat.

The sunrise explodes behind the incalculable tyrant as he approaches Starscream and extends his hand out. The grounded seeker is too blinded to read Megatron's expression, but still grabs the offering, apprehensively.

Megatron pulls Starscream to his feet then purposely turns his back to the bewildered traitor. He pauses a while, fidgeting with the settings on his arm canon.

Starscream stands frozen in a puzzled mess of processes. He opens his mouth, fishing for anything to break the silent void, but Megatron's gravely purr beats him to it.

MEGATRON  
You blame our past failures on my caliber of judgment, and where that may hold merit in some instances, the true culprit in the Decepticon downfall is its internal instability.

The seeker is now thoroughly confounded, floored with near-flattery that Megatron would confide this confessional information during such a prickly encounter.

STARSCREAM  
(painfully hesitant)  
Y--You mean our…lack of teamwork?

MEGATRON  
Exactly. The Autobots have succeeded where we failed because they have the advantage of trust...a luxury that I could never afford even to this day.

He turns to face his former second, staring deep into the seeker's guilty optics.

MEGATRON  
You witnessed it yourself, just moments ago. My most loyal soldier was able to blatantly lie to me.

Starscream grasps at the glimmer of dignity now presented to him by the tyrant's acknowledgement of another's underhanded actions, and begins to ease back into his comfortably foolish pride.

STARSCREAM  
With all do respect, you don't give us much incentive to devote one-hundred percent loyalty. Fear is not a substitute for admiration.

MEGATRON  
But fear keeps you inline. If I allow my army to believe their leader is subject to error and weakness, then I lose all credibility and the Decepticon forces crumble apart with internal squabbling and imbalance of proper authority.

STARSCREAM  
There's a gaping difference between weakness and open-mindedness. You lose credibility each time you wantonly punish the mere gesture of questioning your authority.

Megatron is obviously not pleased with the brash lecturing, but refrains from his instinct to react with the usual scare tactics.

MEGATRON  
Then you feel your relentlessly condescending behavior is justified?

STARSCREAM  
(knocked back down a notch)  
I'll-- admit that my attitude back there was…out of line, but I don't regret putting your judgment on trial.

MEGATRON  
(pessimistically)  
So, by your logic, I'll gain admiration from my soldiers if I encourage open discussion on my decisions and allow them to question the validity of my judgment?

STARSCREAM  
(now unsure of his own logic)  
Well…yeah.

MEGATRON  
We'd never accomplish anything. We'd be nothing more than a bunch of bickering biddies, just like that ridiculous Autobot Council.

STARSCREAM  
Then that's where your ability as a leader comes into play, weeding out the morsels of wisdom from a forest of foolishness.

Megatron chews on the brazen words with apprehension then scowls at the seeker's time-old ability to quickly restore his arrogant composure.

Their moment is interrupted by the roar of jet engines overhead.

MEGATRON  
(looking to the sky)  
Well it's about time. (gestures to Starscream). Come! Let us see what "morsels" those fools have to offer me.

Megatron turns away under the scrutinizing stare of his soldier then drops down into chasm.

Starscream remains motionless, replaying their conversation in his mind, questioning how he's able to walk away from this encounter with only a sore neck, a little dirt on the wings and most importantly, a renewed sense of hope for the Decepticon's future.


	7. Welcome back, my friend?

**MAIN ROOM - DECEPTICON BASE**

Lugnut and Blitzwing enter the lab through main doorway, immediately commanding the attention of Shockwave and Blackarachnia.

SHOCKWAVE  
Fools! You will explain your tardiness.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
Vee don't have to explain squat to you!

Megatron emerges in a cloud of dust through his personal doorway.

MEGATRON  
But you will explain your incompetence to me!

The triple-changer's angry persona retreats at the sound of his leader's voice.

ICY BLITZWING  
(groveling)  
Um…vell, zee truse of the zee matter is…

Lugnut proudly steps forward, opening the hatch to his storage compartment which spills five glowing blue shards of variable sizes onto the floor. This action leaves Shockwave and Blackarachnia awe-struck.

Megatron approaches the scene, and glances back and forth between Lugnut and the shards with disbelief, compelling Lugnut to dutifully fall to one knee.

LUGNUT  
Master, it pained me to deceive you but I was afraid to mention our discoveries over the comm, in case the Autobots found a way to listen in.

Megatron squats down next to the spilled treasures, mood lightening as he carefully inspects the shards. He could feel the immense concentration of power within each trinket, igniting is spark with a raw clarity, projecting images in his mind of victories unforeseen and unimagined by even him.

The Decepticon leader's silent state brings an air of puzzlement to the scene.

Starscream enters through the crude hole in the wall, sweeping dust off his arms and cockpit, but freezes upon seeing the shards.

LUGNUT  
(slightly worried)  
Ma-Master…is everything okay?

Lugnut's voice snaps Megatron back into the room.

MEGATRON  
(rising up)  
Your findings are impressive but they don't alter the time-sensitive nature of your mission. (motions to operating table) You may very well have jeopardized the usefulness of that human component…

ICY BLIZTWING  
Sir, vee had every intention to hastily complete our mission, but zee tracker vouldn't quit.

The triple-changer is overcome with excitement at the retelling of their recent adventure.

RANDOM BLITZWING  
It vas a vicious cycle! Vee vould collect a shard, head for home, then zee tracker would scream NO NO NO. So vee'd collect another shard, head for home, then zee tracker vould scream…

Megatron abruptly cuts off the maniacal ramblings.

MEGATRON  
(squeezing his temples)  
I get the idea! (glancing to the femme) Blackarachnia, you have everything you need to commence with the procedure.

BLACKARACHIA  
(snapping to attention)  
Yes Sir!

She hustles down from the platform and crouches next to the pile of sparkling treasure, hesitating before gently picking up the largest shard.

STARSCREAM  
(standing at the table)  
The smallest shard should contain more than enough power to resurrect this Autobot.

SHOCKWAVE  
Can you break them into smaller pieces?

STARSCREAM  
Not under our current time constraints, but perhaps the additional All Spark power can compensate for the deterioration of the human's brain.

Starscream carefully lifts the jar from the instrument tray and unscrews the lid.

Blackarachnia chooses the smallest shard of the five and brings it to the operating table, flashing Starscream a look of uncertainty. He raises an optic ridge to her but proceeds to lift the brain out of the liquid.

Megatron approaches the table with stern curiosity, but mindfully glances back over his shoulder.

MEGATRON  
Lugnut! Pick up the shards and bring them to me.

LUGNUT  
At once my liege!

Lugnut scrambles to the floor and collects each shard as carefully as his hulking claw will allow.

Shockwave is suddenly overcome with an epiphany of paranoia and quickly averts his attention from the science project to the mega-computer. He taps away at the console, bringing up multiple views of the island's landscape. One video feed displays the expanse of lake from the viewpoint of the island's shore, and in the lake is an object too large and fast to be the typical indigenous water foul. Shockwave zooms in on the image to reveal a black and white watercraft, carrying an all too familiar cast of invasive characters.

SHOCKWAVE  
Megatron, the Autobots!

The video feed commands the attention of the entire room, everyone responding with frustration except for Blackarachnia who feels a sense of relief.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What are your orders, Sir? I don't think it wise to risk the Autobots interrupting our procedure.

Megatron rudely snatches the shard from the spiderbot's grasp and shoves her aside.

MEGATRON  
I grow impatient of your excuses. (glares at Starscream) Can I depend on your assistance?

STARSCREAM  
Yes, Megatron, but she is the experienced one here so I suggest you follow her instructions.

Megatron grumbles then looks upon Blackarachnia with annoyed expectation, forcing her to relent to the inevitable situation at hand.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(defeated)  
Just…place the shard in his spark chamber and a wait a few kliks before adding the brain.

Lugnut slowly approaches with his claw full of shards and Blitzwing is close behind him. Both of them are fascinated by the long-anticipated event. Even Shockwave has averted his attention from the impending Autobot threat to the actions of his leader.

Megatron hovers his hand over Prowl's chest, then releases the grasp of his fingertips and the powerful gem drops into the lifeless cavity.

**LAKE EERIE**

The Detroit Police boat glides across the glassy waters of the waking lake with sense of urgency. Its aft deck is barely large enough to house the five Autobots. Sari is inside the enclosed cabin standing impatiently next to Captain Fanzone who proudly mans the helm. She does an about face and flings herself into the cabin's door, letting a rush of cold wind disturb the warm calm of the enclosure.

FANZONE  
Do you mind, kid?

Bounding onto the wind whipped deck, Sari joins her friends then slams the cabin door behind her.

SARI  
What's our plan?

The Autobots look expectantly to their leader who appears immersed in uncertainty.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I sincerely doubt we'll have the element of surprise, so we'll need to be on constant alert. We know for certain from this morning's news that Megatron and Shockwave are in the picture, and we can almost guarantee Lugnut and Blitzwing are too.

JAZZ  
I'm not diggin' the numbers boss…that's six of them, possibly more against five of us…

SARI  
(sternly interrupting)  
You mean seven of us!

RATCHET  
Megatron could predictably send his two goons to deal with us, leaving himself and perhaps another behind to guard Prowl, but I say we'd still be wise to prepare for a full on strike from all of them.

BUMBLEBEE  
Maybe they took Prowl simply to lure us into some kind of trap.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(rubbing his forehead)  
I'm perplexed that Megatron would reveal himself so quickly after his arrival here on Earth. It's not like to him operate with such carelessness, but then again, if he's backed by the full power of all his earth based Decepticons, then he'll have very little reason to fear our intervention.

BULKHEAD  
Why don't we get the Dinobots to help us? That'll tip the scales in our favor.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Normally they prefer to avoid our warfare, but maybe Grimlock's grudge against Blackarachnia will work in our favor. It's certainly worth a try. (into comm.) Grimlock, do you copy?

**DINOBOT ISLAND - DECEPTICON BASE**

With weapons readied, the Decepticons encircle the operating table, its occupant now vivid with lively shades of black and gold. The remaining blue jolts light up the triangular optic visor of the familiar Autobot ninja, then fade away into the blinding glow of his spark chamber leaving an eerie stillness in the room.

The whirring of the Autobot's ventilators breaks the tense silence, but Megatron moves closer, refusing to be intimidated by such dramatics.

MEGATRON  
Welcome back, my friend.

The sinister voices rings all too familiar in the ninja's processor as he frantically sits up and darts his attention across the curious stares that surround him.

PROWL  
Decepticons!

He agilely springs from the table toward Lugnut's head, using the cyclops as a launching pad to reach for the rafters above. Grabbing hold of a support beam, he spins around it before landing in crouch on its narrow surface. The animal-like bot peers down at his enemies then frantically searches the room for a means of escape.

MEGATRON  
Get him under control at once, WITHOUT harming him!

Icy Blitzwing seizes his cue and fires a blast of cold at Prowl, who effortlessly leaps from the beam to the top of the mega computer.

Despite his bafflingly disadvantageous predicament, the ninja ventilates with an exhilarated thrill. He settles his optics on the glaring intelbot lingering below then flashes a taunting glance through his optic visor.

Shockwave instinctively aims his cannon at the Autobot, but gives no indication that he intends to fire.

SHOCKWAVE  
I won't fall for your trickery, Autobot.

Blitzwing unleashes another blast of cold which is easily dodged by the ninja, but not by the computer monitor, which cracks from the assaulting ice.

Megatron abruptly backhands the triple-changer, knocking him to the floor.

MEGATRON  
Mind the equipment, you fool! Blackarachnia, could you please put an end to this nonsense.

The awe-struck predacon jolts at the request then springs onto the operating table. She fires barrage of webs at the ceiling, all of which Prowl dodges with ease.

She pauses her attacks, takes a moment to rethink her strategy, studying the decreasing number of safe spots for her target, then fires a tiny web at him quickly followed by a large web at his anticipated destination.

Prowl flails mid-air as his landing spot is covered by the sticky netting which he's helpless to avoid. He falls into the glistening fibers, his weight stretching them out and encouraging their entrapment of him. He slams to the floor, writhing and struggling to free his encumbered limbs, but is unable to avoid Lugnut's lumbering foot which heavily pins his body down.

Megatron approaches the defeated pest with quizzical irritation.

MEGATRON  
You obviously recognize us, but do you know who YOU are…Jeffrey Simon?

The name causes Prowl to flinch, rebooting his processor with gouging confusion.

Exactly the reaction Megatron was fishing for.

MEGATRON  
(pandering smile)  
Lugnut, that is no way to treat our guest. Bring him to his feet. Bestow the renowned Mr. Simon with the dignity he deserves.

Lugnut is unsure of his master's orders, but follows them unquestionably, removing his foot from the captive and pulling him to his feet.

The ninja looks upon his towering captors with a raging horror.

PROWL  
(squirming under the webbing)  
You call this dignity?

Starscream strides up to Prowl, slides the distinguished Cyber-Ninja helmet of from his head and happily joins the game of deception.

STARSCREAM  
Allow me to relieve you of this burden. Such a brilliant mind shouldn't be encumbered by silly symbols of foolish practices.

PROWL  
No! Give it back! That belonged to my…um…my master…

MEGATRON  
Mr. Simon, how dreadful it must to bear the curse of such useless memories.

PROWL  
Why do keep calling me that?! My name is…

Prowl's face washes over with a perplexed fear, his processor obviously working overtime, but without a desired outcome.

PROWL  
What have you done to me? Why does my memory fail me?

MEGATRON  
Because, dear human, you're trying to access the wrong memories, but it's understandable why you would want to block them out. Your fate was left to that of your fellow humans' justice system, however, we took it upon ourselves to rescue you and give you sanctuary in this new body. A body more powerful than the unfitting flesh you were born with. Sure it has the residue of its former inhabitant, but that's nothing a strong personality such as yourself can't overcome with a little willpower.

Megatron's words leave Prowl flustered and speechless.

Shockwave carefully peels chunks of ice from the screen of the monitor. He soon uncovers the video feed displaying the Autobots.

SHOCKWAVE  
Sir, the Auto…(he cuts himself off) Our impending threat is closing in. They're less than ten cycles from reaching the island.

Megatron growls at the annoying turn of events.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I'll go topside and divert them once they're on the island.

MEGATRON  
No. I don't want them to even reach the shore. Blitzwing! I want you to transport our guest into the city, preferable a well-known public location and make sure the both of you are in plain view to the watercraft's occupants.

ICY BLITZWING  
Yes, my Lord.

Blitzwing snatches the baffled ninja and tucks him under one arm

PROWL  
You…You're letting me go?

MEGATRON  
(resuming his charade)  
Of course, Mr. Simon. You belong in the city, amongst your fellow humans, who will no longer see you as a threat but rather a hero.

SHOCKWAVE  
Isn't that a rather risky diversion, my Lord?

Shockwave waits until Blitzwing leaves the room with the subject at hand before finishing his thought.

SHOCKWAVE  
How do we know the Autobot's memory won't overpower the human's?

MEGATRON  
We don't, but he'll provide enough of a distraction while we collect more All Spark fragments. (gestures to Lugnut) We're already up by four which is much farther ahead of schedule than I originally anticipated.

Lugnut straightens his posture with a sense of pride as he hands Megatron the remaining shards. Their glow once again captivates the Decepticon leader and he cracks a scheming smile.

MEGATRON  
Starscream! I'm relying on your wily genius to devise a means of extracting energon from these.

STARSCREAM  
Already drawing mental blueprints, however, I will need some supplies of both the earthly and Cybertronian sort.

Blackarachnia dispenses a blank stare to each of her colleagues, baffled by their apparent forgetfulness of the events that just took place.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Before you all so eagerly move on to brasher endeavors, shouldn't we at least track Blitzwing and Prowl so we have some idea if our plan even works?

Shockwave brings the video feed of the lake to the front of the screen but no one appears interested in it. Lugnut focuses on Megatron, who's lost in the shard's lure again and Shockwave immediately shifts his focus to the science bot, who's caught up in his own scheming.

SHOCKWAVE  
I'm sure Chromia could arrange another transport of goods for us, but I caution against stretching her resources too thin. The Elite Guard is no doubt in much higher suspicion of their own these days.

Blackarachnia shakes her head with repugnance as she storms up to the mega-computer and stations herself next to Shockwave, assuming his role of monitoring the unfolding events on the lake.


	8. Rescue

**LAKE EERIE**

Icy Blitzwing confidently soars over the waters, carrying Prowl who's still wrapped in silken rope. The triple-changer spies the police boat below and begins his descent, knowing well the roar of his jets has already raised the Autobot alarm, and hoping they'll recognize the ninjabot before they launch an attack.

BULKHEAD  
(optics to the sky)  
That's Blitzwing alright, but why is he alone? And what is he carrying?

Optimus, Jazz and Ratchet ready their weapons. Bumblebee zooms his optics in for a closer look and is shocked at a blurry black image pinned under the Decepticon's arm.

BUMBLEBEE  
Hold your attacks! I think he's got Prowl!

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Ratchet! Switch on my jet pack!

The medibot complies and powers up the winged device mounted on his leader's back.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Jazz, grab hold of me and be ready for action!

JAZZ  
(hooking his arm around Optimus' neck)  
Aye, aye, Cap'n.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Sari! Your jet pack in good working order?

SARI  
(excitedly)  
Of course! Why?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I want you to back us up.

SARI  
Alright! I mean, yes Sir!

Optimus, with Jazz in tow, leaps from the edge of the boat then ignites his jet pack. Sari wastes not time following his lead, but doesn't bother jumping before blasting off, leaving a blackened trail on the boat's deck and across Ratchet's feet. The old bot's grumbles are quickly engulfed by the roar the ascending Autobots.

Blitzwing wasn't expecting an aerial assault but willingly accepts the promise of violence and switches to Hothead. The Autobots in the boat are sitting ducks and since Megatron never gave the order NOT to attack, he wasn't about to pass up this golden moment. He swoops down and fires a set of missiles toward the boat.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Oh no!

JAZZ  
I got this.

He hurls a nun chuck at the projectiles, causing one to explode mid air which knocks the other slightly off course.

Ratchet's optics widen at the threat closing in fast.

RATCHET  
Take cover!

The missile strikes the aft, exploding on impact and sending splintered chunks of wood, fiberglass and three unsuspecting Autobots in every direction. The bow tips up and bobs unsteadily, tossing Fanzone out the cabin door and into the water.

Ratchet wades over to the police captain, grabs hold of him, then frantically looks around for his other two team members.

Optimus and Sari fly back down to survey the wreckage as Random Blitzwing flees the scene, cackling maniacally.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(shouting down)  
Is everyone okay?!

Ratchet is relieved to see Bumblebee and Bulkhead emerge onto the lake's surface.

RATCHET  
A bit soggy but we're all accounted for. Now make haste before that lunatic 'Con gets away.

SARI  
But what about you guys?

FANZONE  
Don't worry about us, I'll radio back for help.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
If you see any more signs of Decepticon activity, I want you on comms, instantly! You got that!

BUMBLEBEE  
Yeah, we got it! Now go!!

Sari thrusts her jets to maximum power and zips off in Blitzwing's direction.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Sari, Wait! We don't know if that's actually Prowl or just a decoy.

JAZZ  
(quietly)  
It's Prowl...for sure...I can sense it.

Optimus ponder's his passenger's implications as he tightens his hold on the elite bot and follows the girl's lead.

**DECEPTICON BASE**

Blackarachnia is now seated in Shockwave's chair at the computer's console since its regular occupant has vacated his post to join the other three Decepticons hovering around the table. The shards are laid out in an orderly fashion next to an electronic pad which Starscream is filling with crude scribbles and sketches.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(focuses on monitor)  
Looks like the Autobots took the bait…well, the aerial ones at least.

She pauses for a moment, waiting for a reply, but Starscream continues to captivate the other Decepticons with his technical jargon.

The femme makes another attempt to fish some interest from mechs.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Blitzwing bombed their boat, and now they've enlisted the aid of the flying Dinobot to tow them back toward the city.

Another pause, still with no reply. She looks over at her colleagues with a grimace.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(sarcastically)  
Huh, would ya look at that! Primus himself just landed on the island, wielding the massive hammer of justice, ready to smite our blasphemous operations with his unforgiving retribution.

Starscream pauses his presentation, raising an optic brow and flashing a glance to the predacon.

STARSCREAM  
Now that I'd like to see.

Megatron and Lugnut raise their attention to the monitor.

LUGNUT  
(studying the capsized boat on-screen)  
My liege, they are in a helpless position. Shall I go finish them off?

MEGATRON  
No. It won't be long before the law enforcement and news helicopters arrive and I'd rather we didn't make the headlines twice in one morning. (looks back down at tablet) However, I would like for you and Starscream to start gathering these supplies while the Autobots are indisposed.

LUGNUT  
Yes, my Lord, I will obey at once. (turns and walks toward the exit) Let's go, Starscream.

Starscream pops his head up from his work.

STARSCREAM  
What? Right now?!

LUGNUT  
Yes, right now!

Starscream looks to Megatron for verification.

MEGATRON  
(gesturing to Lugnut with a raised brow and half smile)  
What he said.

The seeker vents a relenting sigh then shrugs with acceptance, stretching his arms and straightening his posture as he follows Lugnut into the hallway leading to the exit.

STARSCREAM  
S'pose my wings could use a stretch…(tauntingly to Lugnut) plus this task requires a higher level of competence than your accustomed to.

LUGNUT  
(glaring back at the seeker)  
If you can direct me to the locations of your precious supplies, without the attitude, then I might look past my disdain for your past treacheries.

**ABOVE DETROIT**

Blitzwing clutches a bewildered cyber ninja as he soars over the rooftops of the city, studying each building has he passes over them.

ICY BLITZWING  
No, zat one von't do…No, not zat one eizer.

PROWL  
Will you please tell me who you are and where you are taking me?

ICY BLITTZWING  
Patience Autob…human. You'll be amongst your peers soon enough.

The ninja is displeased with yet another unfulfilling answer and twists around to view the indistinct aerial figures tailing them.

PROWL  
Who is that chasing us?

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
(growing impatient)  
Zose are our enemies!

Prowl grunts as his captor's arm clenches tighter, forcing the ninja to look forward again.

The triple-changer subdues his anger as a large glass dome catches his eye. He angles their trajectory directly toward it.

ICY BLITZWING  
Perfect!

PROWL  
That's the mall. Why are we going to the mall?

Blitzwing's untamed alter-ego takes control.

RANDOM BLITZWING  
You know vhat zey say! Drop till you shop!

The prankster lifts the ninja over his head then hurls him down directly toward the dome. The sound of shattering glass and the Autobot's hollers fuel the deranged Decepticon as he rockets up laughing hysterically at his own bad pun.

Optimus Prime's passenger never once averted his visual-lock on their enemy and his despicable actions. The quick glance he got of Prowl's falling form was enough to warrant a gasp of shock.

JAZZ  
Holy Pri…You see that?!

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(infuriated)  
You mean Blitzwing's utter disregard for…

JAZZ  
No! I mean the colors…on Prowl!

Blitzwing whirls into jet-mode and flees the scene before the Autobots can get close enough to spoil his mood.

RANDOM BLIZTWING  
(shouting back down)  
Don't overspend your limit!

Optimus Prime decelerate as they approach the shattered dome. Sari quickly catches up squinting into the morning sun as Blitzwing disappears from view.

SARI  
Uuuughhhh, I hate that guy.

JAZZ  
Get us down there, Prime.

Optimus reduces the power to his jet pack and lowers them down through the shard-edged hole in the glass dome.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
C'mon Sari, and be extremely careful of the broken glass.

Panicked screams echo from all three levels of the mall, but nobody was injured by the falling Autobot as the main obstacle beneath the glass dome is a gigantic fountain, as tall as the three stories of the mall which encircle it.

The ninja lays motionless on his back, draped across the top tier of the fountain, mostly covered with frosted glass shards and metal framing, legs dangling down off the edges.

The Autobot leader hovers down to the fountain, letting Jazz step onto the second tier, then continuing to the ground floor and looking over dozens of bewildered faces.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(addressing the crowd)  
Attention everyone! There's no need to panic…the danger has passed. Now, is anyone injured and have you called the emergency, uh, three digit helpline?

Sari lands on the third tier of the fountain next to a pile of debris housing the ninja as Jazz hastily clears the rubble away piece by piece. She feels her spark grow twice its size as she beholds the visible gold and black limbs poking out from the mess.

SARI  
Jazz…his colors…is he…?

Jazz gawks at the blue haze barely visible through the last obstructing piece of tinted glass. He flings the shard away, uncovering the ninja's face. Nothing short of monumental astonishment freezes the pair as a familiar blue visor illuminates at the sight of them.

Prowl creaks his head toward Jazz, groaning as he comes to.

Sari leaps back, slapping her hands over her mouth as if to keep her facing from falling off in disbelief.

Jazz remains frozen, lingering in a void between denial and ecstasy and is barely able to keep his footing on the tier below.

PROWL  
Ja…Jazz.

Jazz grips Prowl's shoulders with a desperation he's never felt. Paralyzed for speech, he simply slumps his head face down upon the black chest plate, releasing the ghost of torturous regret that has sickened his spark since the fateful event upon Sumdac Tower.

Prowl is now thoroughly confused and attempts to vocalize his bewilderment when Sari falls around his neck, sobbing heavily.

PROWL  
Sari…wha-- what's the matter…what's going on?

Despite the sounds of the crowd's rumbling and the fountain's rushing water, Optimus' audio sensors instinctively tune into the familiar smooth vocals of a sorely-missed comrade. He turns from the crowd and is practically floored by the sight of a sleek black chassis rising up from the fountain's peak.

Jazz attentively helps Prowl down to the pool at the fountain's base.

Optimus nearly warped himself to Prowl's side, grasping the frail yet living black chassis and helping guide the unstable ninja out of the shallow water. They gently sit him on the marble wall of the fountain's edge.

Sari is still draped around Prowl's neck, streaming endless tears of joy.

Prowl flounders in exhausted ignorance, but manages to rest a consoling hand upon the anguished girl's back.

PROWL  
Sari…What happened? (looks to his leader for enlightenment) Did we defeat the omega clones?

Upon hearing Prowl's words, Optimus is overcome with relief and falls into the ninja trapping him and the girl with a bear hug.

PROWL  
(voice squeezed and desperate)  
Wha…Would one of you please explain…

Prowl cuts himself off as he peers over his leader's shoulder at the multiple uniformed guards and distant flashing red lights. The sound of approaching sirens is the final stimulus that engulfs his spark into a suppressed nightmare. The ninja gasps as he succumbs to a violent fear.

He aggressively pushes his leader away and springs to his feet, snatching the teenager from his shoulder and stepping back into the fountain.

JAZZ  
Whoa, man! Chill!

Prowl's fingers wrap tightly around Sari, as he steps back further, unaffected by the downpour of flowing water upon his head.

SARI  
(with frightened denial)  
Prowl…what's the matter?

PROWL  
(in deranged paranoia)  
This is a trick! You're just going to lock me up again!

Optimus Prime and Jazz reluctantly exchange glances of undeniable paranoia.

The Autobot leader attempts to wipe his mind of discouraging thoughts and steps into the pool. He slowly advances toward the anomaly, moving his hands in calming gestures.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Calm down, Prowl. No one here intends to harm you.

PROWL  
(threatening)  
Back off or I swear I'll hurt her!

Sari's tearful eyes widen and she gazes up to the contorted mystery that was her cherished friend only moments ago.

SARI  
Prowl! It's…It's me…Sari…your frie--

A blade unsheathes from the ninja's upgraded bracers, merely inches from her head.

She yelps and defensively surges electricity from her body, causing the impostor to release his grip on her. The jolt reacts with the surrounding water and massively electrocutes the ninja.

The frightful girl flies to safety but spins around with concern to witness the aftermath of her actions.

Prowl falls helplessly to his knees, moaning as he desperately cups his hands over his head.

Sari's chest sinks with helpless regret.

Optimus and Jazz quickly emerge on either side of the fallen Autobot, lifting him up and wrapping each of his limp arms behind their necks.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Sari, are you okay?

SARI  
(heartbroken)  
Fine…but why did he do that to me?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I wish I had answer to that.

He gestures to Sari, instructing her to follow them and she reluctantly complies still shaken by the events.

Prowl musters enough strength to scrape his feet into staggering steps, but is barely able to lift his head as the two Autobots slowly walk him out of the fountain.

PROWL  
(near whisper)  
What's wrong with me?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(with hesitation)  
The Decepticons…resurrected your spark and I'm guessing they tweaked your processor functions as well.

The gathered crowd of onlookers and policemen clear a path for the Autobots as they guide their broken friend past the line of storefronts and toward the exit doors.

PROWL  
Resurrected…You're saying I was…offline? And the Decepticons…

JAZZ  
(consoling)  
Just take it easy, bro.

PROWL  
But…I don't understand any of this.

JAZZ  
Neither do we, but frettin' about it right now won't solve a thang. (he rests his hand on the black arm draped over his shoulder) Just take five as we get you back to base. There's some phat energon and healthy dose a'nature awaiting ya there.


	9. Our ninjabot is alive

**CYBERTRON - IACON CITY - MILITARY HOSPITAL**

Chromia advances down a white-walled corridor as if on a critical mission. Her expression is pinched with insult as a screechy voice barks through her comm.

STARSCREAM  
…a portable power-cyphon, some cyber forceps, a circuit-linker, an exponential generator, an energon casing replicator, and one bottle of Poloniom Spritzer. Now, if any those items are a problem for you, then let me know immediately so I can figure out a substitution.

CHROMIA  
The local hardware dealer should have all that stuff, except the spritzer, which I sincerely doubt you need, but will throw in anyway for good measure.

STARSCREAM  
(patronizing)  
Excellent…you're shaping up to be quite the little asset, just as they said you'd be.

CHROMIA  
(agitated)  
And you're quite the condescending blowhard, just as I expected. Chromia out.

She approaches a door marked "Rehabilitation Center" and pushes it open, revealing a room filled with various physical therapy and work out machines. Brawn lay on a bench, lifting a bar of weights nearly as big as him, guarded by the watchful eye of the medibot femme, Red Alert.

He replaces the bar back onto its support and tilts his head over to view his visitor.

BRAWN  
Chromia! My partner in crime.

Chromia strolls up, tapping the nurse bot on her arm.

CHROMIA  
Hey Red, may I have a moment alone with him?

RED ALERT  
(obligingly)  
Sure thing. (skeptically eyeballs Brawn as she leaves the room) Don't even think about adding more weight. You're already pushing it.

BRAWN  
Pshhh…this is just a warm-up. (to Chromia) Your timing is impeccable. Here, spot me.

CHROMIA  
(assumes spotting role behind the head of the bench)  
Yeah, why's that?

BRAWN  
(voice strained as he lifts the bar up)  
Well…hmph…I gotta meet with the council here shortly, to debrief with them my account of our little adventure, and there's one detail that I'm really foggy on.

CHROMIA  
(fills with paranoia)  
And what might that be?

BRAWN  
(completing a rep)  
Okay, so…according to your report, Shockwave took the stasis control device from you which allowed him to reverse the flow of energy in the chains and therefore boost the other Con's with a super does of power, which allowed them to break through their cells.

CHROMIA  
Yes, that's correct.

BRAWN  
What I don't get, is how was Shockwave able to break his chains and his cell if the device was in your control at that time.

Brawn is about to place the barbell back on the rack when Chromia suddenly presses her weight down on it, dropping it on his chest, then cart wheeling over him and planting her feet on the bench on either sides of him. Her normally discreet wings have spread out to an impressive span, revealing animated swirling patterns which instantly hypnotize the unsuspecting Autobot. His eyes swirl with the same black and white patterns adorned on the captivating display, which resemble the wings of giant moth.

CHROMIA  
(eerily clairvoyant)  
Because, dear Brawn, when you so carelessly tossed me the device, its circuits were jogged causing an energy reversal in Shockwave's chains which surged him with the strength to break free, grab me by the neck, relieve me of the device, then free the other Decepticons.

She retracts her wings and steps down off the bench. Brawn remains motionless, pinned by the barbell, and in a state of mesmerism.

CHROMIA  
Now, are the events clear in your mind?

BRAWN  
(dopily)  
Crystal.

CHROMIA  
(sliding her hands under the barbell)  
Good. Now push!

Brawn begins to snap out of it as the weight is lessened from his chest. He immediately pushes the barbell back up on the rack, then sits up in a half-daze.

Chromia gives his face a couple friendly slaps, bringing him back to full awareness.

CHROMIA  
Glad to see you got your strength back, but you should really listen to Red and don't overdo it.

She slyly turns and heads toward the door as Brawn stands up and rubs his chest with an irritated confusion.

BRAWN  
Yeah, yeah…whatever you broads say.

**AUTOBOT BASE - MAIN ROOM**

Bumblebee sits introspectively still on the couch, forehead leaning into his hands, staring wildly into the floor. Sari is tucked up beside him, face awash with too many emotions.

They can hear the murmuring voices of Optimus, Ratchet and Jazz from the other room.

BUMBLEBEE  
(hardly able to process his own words)  
Prowl's alive…courtesy of the 'cons…and Blitzing decides to kindly drop him off at the mall after blowing up our boat.

SARI  
It wasn't kindly.

BUMBLEBEE  
There's some seriously big picture here, way beyond my level of getting.

Bulkhead, who's sitting across from the two, looks to Sari with a sorrowful doubting.

BULKHEAD  
Did he really take you…(chokes on the word) hostage?

Sari looks away and shifts uncomfortably, mind drifting a moment before replying softly.

SARI  
Yes…but he…wasn't himself. Didn't you guys here what Optimus said? The 'cons…did stuff to his processor.

BUMBLBEE  
But he seems fine now. He's sitting in his room, meditating and…stuff.

SARI  
(saddened by the undeniable reality)  
He's not fine…he's meditating to try and make sense of the…nightmare he just woke up to.

BULKHEAD  
But do we know for sure that the 'cons actually…merged him with a…demented human brain?

SARI  
(shaking her head with sorrow)  
All the evidence points to it.

BUMBLEBEE  
We don't know that for sure…all we have to go on is that dinodolt's vague account of Blackarachnia's tinkering with Starscream.

SARI  
And the news footage of Megatron kidnapping that convict.

They all fall victim to silence, each one processing the cold facts with expressions of disgust and worry.

Ratchet trudges into the room, commanding the attention of the three disturbed faces. With a groan and creaking of several joints, he plops down next to Sari and brushes a weary glance across the three sets of curious eyes. He vents a long sigh and droops his focus to his lap.

BUMBLEBEE  
(impatient)  
Well? What'd you find out?

RATCHET  
(reluctantly)  
Found traces of organic material in his spark chamber…(lowers his voice) DNA matched the convict's.

The three onlookers can only refresh their rounded optics as they the grind over the information.

BULKHEAD  
So…what does that mean?

RATCHET  
(shaking his head)  
Wish I knew, kid. He appears to have his memories, but he can't sustain a conversation 'fore his processor drifts off into an agitated state of Primus-knows-what.

Bulkhead and Sari sink into gloom, inviting every worst-case-scenario to gallivant into their minds.

SARI  
That sounds really…

BULKHEAD  
Bad.

SARI  
I can't even begin to imagine what that must feel like.

BULKHEAD  
Not good.

Bumblebee fidgets his servos a moment, grinding his teeth and growing ever agitated by the pessimism looming around him. He snaps his head up and ventilates a few times before pinning each of his comrades with a look of disappointment.

BUMBLEBEE  
Alright…I've had enough of these dark clouds foulin' up the joint.

The bright yellow bot rises and beams wide blue optics across the three long faces.

BUMBLEBEE  
Our ninjabot is alive…against all odds, he's come back to us. Sure, he's not…perfect, but who is?

Sari tilts her head, questioning whether to accept the potentially heart-breaking nuggets of hope.

BUMBLEBEE  
He's here…functioning…all black and gold-like…doing his cyber-ninja thing…and no doubt, still pissed at me for the all pranks I pulled on him.

That comment pulls a chuckle from Bulkhead.

BUMBLEBEE  
As far as I'm concerned, we're the luckiest bunch of 'bots this side of the universe. The powers-that-be coulda kept Prowl for themselves and forced us to carry-on with a gaping hole in our team…but they didn't.

Ratchet raises an enlightened but sheepish brow.

BUMBLEBEE  
Our time of mourning is over. It's nothing but high spirits from here out 'cuz I'll be slagged if our buddy emerges from that door into a base fulla sad-faces and boo-hooing.

The sunny yellow paint job seems to infiltrate every corner of the silent room. Sari blinks away her unwarranted tears and looks upon her valiant friend with adoring admiration.

Bumblebee pans over each hopeful stare with a sense of satisfaction, then cracks an inevitable smile as he locks optics on the girl.

BUMBLEBEE  
There now. That wasn't so hard.

He snags the remote control off the coffee table and switches the TV on.

BUMBLEBEE  
Now…who's gonna help me program a back-to-back nature show marathon?

* * *


	10. Human Influence

**DECEPTICON BASE**

Starscream is lost in concentration, soldering wires together on a small device that's too early in development to be recognized as anything but an electronic jumble. His work table is piled high with iron two-by-fours, copper sheeting, spools of wire and various electrical supplies.

Blitzwing and Lugnut are covered head to toe in dirt as they clear out the extraneous rubble in Megatron's newly-created tunnel, Icy scowling at his partner's complacency at such a demeaning task.

Megatron and Shockwave are at the computer, engaged in conversation.

SHOCKWAVE  
According to our forces in Cybertron's outlaying territories, Swindle and Lockdown are the only potential allies in possession of starships adequately sized to transport all of us and a large quantity of energon cubes.

MEGATRON  
Hmm…assuming we'll have our desired quantity of energon we should also have enough to pay for our passage, but which self-serving reprobate do we distrust the least.

Hothead Blitzwing barges out of the tunnel, obviously bent out of shape over something.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
I vould razzer individually fly each cube to Cybertron myself zan rely on zat double-crosser, Svindle!

As the triple-changer passes by Starscream's work table, he slams his fist down on the end of a two-by-four, sending it and all the items stacked on its other end, catapulting across the room, crashing and clanging into the walls, each other and then finally onto the floor.

Starscream drops his head into his palms, quivering with frustration.

Shockwave and Megatron acknowledge Blitzwing's bold request for an audience, ceasing their discussion and paying him full attention.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
It vas his fault zee Autobots captured me and zee clones. Vee ver fighting zee Autobots and he vas suppose to simply guard our prisoners, but instead chose to retreat like a coward!

Starscream abruptly rises to his feet, knocking his chair over and gripping the sides of the table. With a swift yank, he lifts the table up, tearing the welded fixings at the base of each leg.

This outburst has overshadowed even that of Blitzwing and the other three Cons watch the display with bewildered amusement.

STARSCREAM  
(temperamental)  
How do you expect me to accomplish anything with this constant assault to my concentration!

Workspace in hand, he stomps toward a side door like a falsely-accused child being sent to their room, nuts and bolts bouncing and rolling off the edge of the table.

MEGATRON  
(dismissive of the drama)  
As you were saying, Blitzwing.

**PROMETHEUS BLACK'S SLEEPING QUARTERS**

Starscream bursts through the door and slams the table down on the lush carpeting. His repulsed expression melts into perplexity upon seeing the sorry state of what was obviously once a respectfully regal bedroom. Velvet tapestries in deep shades of burgundy are torn to shreds and cling shamefully to the walls. What little light shone from the flicker of gothic-style electric wall sconces reflects off a sea of jagged mirror shards, littering the floor and vanity surface. Infiltrating every dark corner and streaming from the walls to the towering bedposts, like the icing on the cake of affliction, is an immense tangle of purple silken web.

A sleek semi-metallic arachnid lowers from the ceiling on a single shimmering rope.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(quietly threatening)  
What are you doing in here? These are my private quarters.

Starscream is dismissive of her and turns toward the door to flip a switch on the wall. The room is bombarded by invasively white light.

She transforms and shields her optics from the blinding disturbance.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(annoyed)  
Hey, is that really necessary!?

He picks up the two tall bookcases in the room and sets them back to back by the table, creating a stool of sorts, then plants himself down and attempts to organize the clutter of materials strewn across his workstation.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(still annoyed)  
So…you're gonna set up here, just like that, without even asking?

STARSCREAM  
(not bothering to look up at her)  
I need someplace I can work, undisturbed, free of Shockwave's redundant ramblings and Blitzwing's ludicrous lunacy.

Blackarachnia grudgingly bites her tongue, all too aware that any protests will just be shot down or ignored, but her irritation is suddenly enveloped by an epiphany.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(swaying toward the table)  
You know…in here, you'll be free of Megatron's watchful eye which means we can start working on my cure.

STARSCREAM  
(still focused on his workstation)  
Your cure, as you call it, is a waste of time and resources. I'm seriously considering backing out on the whole project.

All four optics widen as her lightened mood is overtaken with horror.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(slamming her fists on the table)  
What!!

The predacon lashes out with sheer rage, swiping both hands across the table, sending the science bot's pile of supplies tumbling to the floor.

Starscream remains seated still looking down on the now empty workspace, accepting the reality that he wasn't intended to make any progress on his current project today.

Her stingers are poised for attack, tips glowing with green venom.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You snake! You owe me this! If it wasn't for me, you'd be a rusting scrap pile buried under heaps of human trash!

Starscream defensively rises up, priming himself for the delivery of his next insightful thought, but the fitful femme raises her arm and fires a web stream directly at his mouth.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Shut up! Just shut the scrap up! Your voice makes me want to vomit, and thanks to my organic half, I am fully capable of vomiting!

STARSCREAM  
(ripping the webbing from his face)  
I'm fully aware of your influence on my reality, but that doesn't change the fact that you're a fool.

This disrespectful mockery causes Blackarachnia's temper to reach critical mass, bypassing an further acts of outrage and instead sending her into a fit of cackling.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(wild-eyed)  
A fool!?…Really!? (getting in his face) Why am I a fool, Starscream? Please enlighten me!

Starscream takes pride in his demonstrated ability to provoke anyone to the brink of insanity, and gladly readies himself to answer her questions by casually sitting back down and crossing his arms.

STARSCREAM  
(smugly)  
I'll tell you why you're a fool. I'll list off multiple reasons. First of all, you're a fool because you assumed by resurrecting me, I would feel obliged to help you, completely disregarding my past history of helping only myself. The second reason you're a fool is because you're devoid of any insight beyond your bigoted Autobot programming, which prevents you from realizing the advantages of your techno-organic form.

Starscream's lecture has robbed the femme of her laughter.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You don't know what you're talking about. This body is…

STARSCREAM  
(interrupting)  
That body has given you powers that any Autobot and even some Decepticons can only dream of. Tell me, how would you have captured Prowl earlier without the use of your webs? Would you have hoped he'd ground himself long enough to be driven over? Megatron specifically called on you in that situation because even he is aware of the usefulness of your unique powers.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Megatron, along with everyone else, sees me as nothing but a freak of nature, regardless of my powers. This…(gestures to herself) mutated mesh of metal and biomaterial is an abomination.

STARSCREAM  
Why? Because it's looks different? (shakes his head) You let the opinions of single-minded morons taint your logic circuits, which is yet another reason why you're a fool.

He bends over and picks up the largest shard of mirror from the floor, dusting it off before sliding down the tabletop.

It stops directly in front of her, coming to life with an elegant purple and black form.

She peers down at her reflection, silent, bewildered that the seeker's barrage of mockery just took an uncharacteristic turn toward flattery.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(skeptical)  
You're just saying that because you've been influenced by your human counterpart's admiration of organic systems.

STARSCREAM  
So what if I am? Does it make it any less factual?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Make what less factual? Your opinions?

He shakes his head in disappointment and squats down next to the pile of debris on the floor.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Why should your opinions hold any more merit than the opinions of the 'moronic' Autobots?

He begins fumbling with the debris, seemingly ignoring her question.

The frustrated femme throws her arms up with utter abnegation.

BLACKARACHNIA  
That's it? You're just going to carry on as Megatron's little techno-geek and completely scrap our project?

STARSCREAM  
(continues digging through the debris)  
My priority right now is figuring out how to harness energon from the All Spark shards so we can finally depart from this wretched planet. It just so happens I share the same agenda with Megatron, so it only makes sense that I work with him. Your agenda, on the other hand, serves only your misguided vanity. The only reason I ever agreed to help you was because the notion of combining my old Cybertronian engineering skills with my newly gained expertise with organic chemistry sounded like a fascinating endeavor. However, the more I studied the records of 'Elita One' and compared them with your current condition, the more I realized this endeavor would be nothing but a downgrade.

Blackarachnia skeptically crosses her arms, searching through the layers of frustration and confusion in her mind, only to find herself without a retort.

STARSCREAM  
(continuing)  
My opinions are unquestionably valid, but if you refuse to accept the truth then you can at least help with the necessary research of your transformation process and study the molecular composition of this.

He stands up and sets Prowl's samurai helmet on the table, awkwardly avoiding optic contact with the predacon as she gapes in surprise.

BLACKARACHNIA  
So that's why you took the helmet.

STARSCREAM  
(prattling on)  
Replicating the Cybertronian alloy that constitutes an Autobot's chassis is the first step in recreating your original form. I'm sure the quality of metals used for a Cyber-ninja's armor is more than adequate for your needs.

She lifts the trophy up and runs her claws across it, her thoughts immediately engulfed with admiration of such pure Cybertronian material.

BLACKARACHNIA  
It's perfect!

Starscream can see clearly that her stubborn obsession is unyielding and returns to rummaging through the mess on the floor.

She carefully wraps the helmet in silken fibers and places it securely into one of her webs strewn between the bed posts, continuing to gaze upon it with reverence. Her thoughts are interrupted by the glint of a small electrical device at her feet and she kneels down to pick it up.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Is this what you're looking for?

STARSCREAM  
(popping his head up)  
Yes! Give it here!

She brings the device to demanding seeker who quickly snatches it from her hand.

STARSCREAM  
You better not have damaged this with your little temper tantrum.

He carefully inspects his precious project, but suddenly becomes uneasy by the femme's motionless presence.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Starscream…

He can feel all four of her optics locked on him with curious contemplation, but he continues to focus on the device.

STARSCREAM  
(irritated)  
What.

BLACKARACHNIA  
How much of that human scientist's personality did you actually absorb?

Starscream vents a long exhale and sets the device down on the table, slowly lifting his optics to meet with hers.

STARSCREAM  
(scowling)  
Too much.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ I remember everything. The academy, my Cyber-ninja training, our struggle with the Decepticons here on earth. But I also remember much more about this planet. A life not of my own. Memories that grow more vivid with each passing day. Events and interactions responsible for the shaping of my imposter, who's name is best left unmentioned. These memories are horrendous. Far beyond anything I thought humans capable of, and not only his actions, but the actions of those who were suppose to love and nurture him in his developmental years._

_Since we arrived on this planet, I have been fascinated by the delicate balance between all living things and their environments, but now I'm forced to see it through the eyes of one who made destroying life the very purpose to his. He is a monster, a degenerate, a toxic byproduct which should've been weeded out if natural selection still played significant a role with the human species. And now he is a part of me. He finds sanctuary in my disgust for him, feeding on every dark thought, patiently waiting for the next inevitable trigger I encounter. Processor over Matter keeps him at bay for the time being, but when I'm exposed to the various stimuli of the city, meditation is not feasible, and I certainly can't remain locked away in this room forever._

_If I can't find a means to control him, then he must be destroyed, by any means necessary._

AUTOBOT BASE - PROWL'S ROOM

Bumblebee bursts into room, causing every bird and squirrel inhabiting Prowl's tree to flee for their lives.

BUMBLEBEE  
Prowl! Buddy! Me and Sari wanna take you to someplace called the zoo.

PROWL  
(optics abruptly illuminate)  
Perhaps my imposter's violent tendencies have their time and place.  
(venting a sigh)  
It's "Sari and I".

BUMBLEBEE  
No it's not. Me 'n her came up with the idea. (Sari enters the room) Right, Sari?

PROWL  
Ugh, never mind. (rises up from the Lotus pose) Why in the universe would anyone find entertainment with imprisoned animals.

SARI  
It's not like a animal Alcatraz, silly. Zoos have come a long way from the old days and they try to mimic each species natural habitat as much as possible.

Bumblebee starts backward-skating figure eights around Prowl and Sari.

PROWL  
(optics nervously following the hyper yellow bot)  
I don't see how thick glass and metal bars are natural. Wouldn't our time be better spent assisting Optimus Prime in figuring what to do about the Decepticons?

BUMBLEBEE  
He said he wants to lay low until we can get some backing from the Elite Guard, which means we have the green light to go have some fun.

PROWL  
I'll admit it does sound fascinating to see such magnificent creatures up close rather than on TV.

BUMBLEBEE  
That's the spirit!

PROWL  
However, we must be cautious of the effects a crowded public place will have on my…alter-ego.

SARI  
Well, we figured the zoo would be okay since you feel most like you around nature.

PROWL  
I hope you're right, but I would feel much more at ease if we brought a pair of stasis cuffs.

BUMBLEBEE  
(screeches to a stop)  
What!? Are you yanking my drive train? Stasis cuffs? Can't you just hum him away?

Prowl walks to door, passing his young friends without making optic contact.

PROWL  
My imposter is uncanny and can easily catch me off guard with the slightest trigger to his memory. I have no idea what could happen so it's imperative you…keep a close watch on me.

The somber ninja leaves the room, leaving Bumblebee and Sari to look at each other with concern.

BUMBLEBEE  
Poor guy…admitting you need a babysitter is not an easy thing to do, especially if you're Prowl.

SARI  
I know, Bee. As much as I love having him back, I worry that he'll never…be himself again.

BUMBLEBEE  
(shaking off his doubt)  
Don't say that. Prowl's strong. This infestation to his processor is just another hurdle in his Cyber-ninja training. He'll beat it…I hope.


	11. Temptation of the Forbidden

A/N: Vibes is an actual character taken from Dreamweave's War Within comic series. I can't resist weaving more canon femme goodness into a mech-dominated world. There's a pic of her on the Transformers Wiki site. She basically looks like a female version of Jazz with large elven-eared antenna and a red paint job. I took some liberties on her personality as the comics provide very little insight to her character. Her dialogue is inspired by Tia Dalma (Calypso) from Pirates of the Caribbean 2 & 3.

Also, I added some rough sketches of Chromia to my deviant art page, which is under the name Wildmonarch.

One more thing, the references to Megatron's history in the Gladiatorial Arena are taken directly from IDW's "Megatron's Origins' comic series.

* * *

**CYBERTRON - DESERTED HIGHWAY**

Ironhide, Cliffjumper and Brawn cruise down Cybertron's equivalent of Route 66. The road stretches far across the planet's southern hemisphere, dispersed with ghost towns, deserted recharge stations, and a few decrepit novelty diners still clinging to the hope of business from tourists. The Autobots pay no mind to these landmarks as they speed by, letting the partially lit neon lights shrink to merely a passing thought in their rear-view mirrors.

BRAWN  
This blows. How much farther till we reach Kaon, Ironhide?

IRONHIDE  
We'll be able to see it just over the next rise, then it's only a dozen kilometers or so from there. Haven't you been to Kaon before, Brawn?

BRAWN  
Not since before the war. I used to go there to watch the fights.

CLIFFJUMPER  
You mean the gladiatorial fights?

BRAWN  
(sarcastic)  
No, I used to drive all the way out here just to watch drunkards brawlin' in the alleys.

CLIFFJUMPER  
Lucky son-of-a-glitch…you ever see one of Megatron's fights?

BRAWN  
Nah…only ever saw the pirated vids of him…that filthy slagger's no joke in combat.

IRONHIDE  
Don't remind me…my chassis still aches from that punch. How're yer injuries treatin' ya?

BRAWN  
I'm fine…but had I known Sentinel would be sendin' me on mindless missions, I woulda figured out a way to stay in rehab longer.

CLIFFJUMPER  
Frag that frequency, I'll take scouting work any day over my maddeningly dull desk job.

IRONHIDE  
So Sentinel thinks he's punishing you with this assignment when he's actually doin' you a favor?

CLIFFJUMPER  
You got it!

BRAWN  
One would think your name might enlighten him on how your prefer to spend your time.

CLIFFJUMPER  
(laughing)  
Not when your chin is larger than your processor.

IRONHIDE  
Cool yer carburetors you two, there's something…or someone up ahead.

As the Autobots drift over the rise, a red and grey femme sitting lazily on a old rusted oil canister comes into view. Her colors dulled by years of accumulated dust and her chassis in desperate need of some body work, but she's obviously not bothered by such trivial downers as dings and scratches because she sports a carefree smile and waves casually at the three Autobots as they slow to a stop and transform before her.

BRAWN  
Vibes?! Is'at you?

IRONHIDE  
You know her?

BRAWN  
Pit yeah, I know her. We fought together in the Great War.

VIBES  
'Ello Brawn! 'Ow ya dooin'?

BRAWN  
Confused! What in the All Spark you doin' out here?

VIBES  
Am 'elpin' me cousin reopen dee ol' club, what wit da tourists comin' roun' again.

She points her thumb at the run down building behind her.

CLIFFJUMPER  
(gawking around at the barren landscape)  
What tourists? Nobody comes out here anymore.

VIBES  
(crossing arms in a told-you-so manner)  
I guess dat make you a nobody.

Cliffjumper opens his mouth in attempt to protest, but the femme continues before he can utter a word.

VIBES  
Dee arenas of Kaon come to life with da sounds of clangin' metal and feral grunts of as of late. We see a new kine of 'con fightin' der just de udder day.

IRONHIDE  
The 'cons? Who? Did you recognize any of 'em?

VIBES  
Just da arms dealer playin' Master of Ceremonies.

BRAWN  
Figures Swindle would have his slimy servos in on this. Where's Blaster? He around?

VIBES  
Him buying supplies in Iacon.

IRONHIDE  
He left you here alone? Don't you worry about the leaching empties trickling over from Kaon?

VIBES  
Dat is why I stay behind, country bot,…to protect club from squatters such as dem. Dey don't dare mess wit me while I have dis beauty.

She pulls a blaster from her hip holster and holds it up to her optics which widen at is visage. The weapon shines in blatant contrast to her dulled chassis.

All three Autobots are captivated by the alien weaponry.

BRAWN  
Slag me sideways! Is that a Quintessonian piece?

VIBES  
(handing the blaster to Brawn)  
You betchor skid plate it is. Fresh off da factory line.

Brawn carefully slides the blaster from her grasp and inspects with it sheer reverence.

CLIFFJUMPER  
Impossible! They stopped making those after the Great War ended.

VIBES  
You call me a liar, shorty?

IRONHIDE  
(elbowing Cliffjumper)  
No, he's not. Where did you get that?

VIBES  
Is peace offering from Swindle.

BRAWN  
(handing blaster back to Vibes)  
Irony at its finest.

IRONHIDE  
Why? What's that dirty dealer up to?

VIBES  
(makes a shooing motion with the hand holding the blaster)  
Why don't you go into city and ask him yourself?

CLIFFJUMPER  
(grinds his fist into his palm)  
I think we may just do that.

The old femme is not pleased with the scrapper's insinuation and she quickly impales him with a threatening finger tip.

VIBES  
Do not trow your military weight on him! (each of her words driven in by repeated pokes from her finger) Witout him, der's no arenas, and witout arenas, ders no club. Peace is da way of dee future.

IRONHIDE  
How is an illegal fighting ring peaceful?

VIBES  
Nobody die from fights. Is not like the past.

BRAWN  
(grinning)  
I'm starting to like this mission more and more. C'mon guys. Sentinel ordered us to monitor any unusual activity in Kaon, so let's get a move on. (he transforms) Great to see ya, Vibes. I'll be back to check out the club once it's in full swing.

Ironhide and Cliffjumper respectfully nod at Vibes before transforming. She returns their courtesies with a halfhearted salute and crooked but genuine smile.

VIBES  
Remember da truce between Iacon and Kaon, me bruddas, and keep da fighting in da ring.

IRONHIDE  
This is simply a scouting mission, ma'am. We have no intention of engaging in battle.

The Autobots pull onto the highway and speed off toward the city.

The old femme sees them off with the same wave as when she greeted them.

VIBES  
Scouting mission my mud flaps.

_(Insignia Transition - Autobot to Autobot)_

**KAON - GLADITORIAL ARENA**

The three Autobots roll up to the massive scaffolding-lined walls of the large circular structure, which appears to be undergoing a massive makeover. They transform and cautiously walk up to the makings of a main entrance, uneasy by the absence of any sign of life.

CLIFFJUMPER  
Why isn't anyone here?

BRAWN  
My guess would be their all passed out in the alleys…it's pretty early in the day for the types attracted to a place like this.

They wander past the run down admission booths and come upon a large corridor that splits circularly down either side of the arena. Evenly dispersed along the corridor walls are towering arched doorways that lead to row after row of graduated stadium seats. Also lining the corridor walls are black and white images of past gladiators, which instantly captivate Cliffjumper.

CLIFFJUMPER  
(strolling past several photos)  
Wicked! And I mean literally! Most of these gladiators are Megatron's current-day cronies.

IRONHIDE  
Makes sense. He used this place to recruit his army.

CLIFFJUMPER  
Whoa check out this photo!

Ironhide and Brawn wander up to their hyper comrade to inspect his discovery.

IRONHIDE  
Quintessons? How in blazes did they get involved?

BRAWN  
Are you kidding me? There's good profits to be made from fights. (he points at the photo) See, there's Swindle looking greasy as ever. (squints in confusion at the photo) Who's the femme next to him?

IRONHIDE  
(taking a closer look)  
It can't be!

CLIFFJUMPER  
Chromia?!

A familiar smooth-talking voice emerges from behind them.

SWINDLE  
It most certainly is.

The three Autobots practically whiplash to see the arms dealer strutting down the corridor followed by a tall cloaked mech.

SWINDLE  
How's she doing these days? Still slee-- I mean working her way up the ladder of justice.

Ironhide steps forward, holding his palms out to signal his non-hostile intentions. Swindle acknowledges, responding with a nod and scheming smile.

IRONHIDE  
Your grim reaper there better not be packin'.

SWINDLE  
(elbowing the mystery mech)  
Oh he's harmless…well, at the moment anyway. C'mon buddy, take off the cloak…they can't do scrap to you as long you're in the city limits.

The towering bot pulls his hood back to reveal a pair of beady purple optics and long green pincers lined with jagged teeth.

CLIFFJUMPER  
Wasp?!

WASPINATOR  
It's Waspinator now, Cliff!

IRONHIDE  
Swindle, you do realize the bounty Sentinel put on his head.

SWINDLE  
Of course! I'm no fool, but he's worth much more as my prize fighter rather than a lump rotting in the stockades.

IRONHIDE  
But I thought he was on Earth.

WASPINATOR  
Dealerbot find Waspinator on Earth and give Waspinator free ride to Cybertron.

SWINDLE  
I don't normally dish out free rides to anyone, but I took pity on him after realizing we shared a common disdain for a particular backstabbing femme. So how about it fellas!? What say you give my partner here a little warm-up before this evening's events. I'll even let you team up against him.

Brawn fearlessly steps up in front of Ironhide.

BRAWN  
Pffff…I'll take him solo!

IRONHIDE  
No Brawn, we're suppose to be on a mission.

Swindle glides up to Brawn, placing his hand on the back of the eager bot and guiding him toward an arched doorway.

SWINDLE  
Come on, no one will ever know. You'll be back in Iacon before the dinner bell and I know a great little place along the way that'll pound out your dents and wax your chassis in a jiffy.

BRAWN  
That won't be necessary.

WASPINATOR  
Thick littlebot talk big game. Waspinator will enjoy this.

Swindle, Brawn and the predacon make their way down the stadium steps toward the fighting grounds in the center.

Cliffjumper flashes a huge grin at Ironhide and eagerly follows the other three.

Ironhide wearily hesitates a moment before reluctantly following his impetuous comrades.

**AUTOBOT BASE - MAIN ROOM**

Optimus Prime stands over the computer console looking over satellite images of Detroit and Lake Eerie. He taps away into the keyboard and the map images switch to a loading screen with a progress bar that doesn't appear to be making any progress. He slams his fists on the keyboards.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
C'mon, how hard is it show me an map of the zoo?! I really miss Teletran One.

Ratchet curiously peers up in from his welding project.

RATCHET  
You realize brute force has no effect on the speed of the human's communication networks.

The medibot watches his leader step down off the monitoring platform and start pacing while squeezing his temples.

RATCHET  
Somthin' on yer processor?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Just…everything…Prowl, the Decepticons, Ultra Magnus…

RATCHET  
(shaking his head)  
You need to learn to tackle our current issues one at a time and stop being so…"emo" as Sari would say.

Ratchet's earthly language brings Optimus to a halt and he looks questionably at the old bot.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Emo?

RATCHET  
Yeah, as in get over yourself and be more proactive! You've been sulking around here all day. Go for a drive! Soak up some solar rays.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
But…

RATCHET  
No buts! As your medical adviser, I strongly suggest you follow my orders.

The Autobot leader is in no mood to argue with his stubborn colleague and raises his hands in surrender as he walks toward the exit.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
You're the docbot. Is there anything you need from town?

RATCHET  
Yeah...more information about the procedure performed on Prowl.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(confused)  
How...do you expect me to get that?

RATCHET  
From a comm call to your "inside connection."

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(he does an about face)  
What do you mean "connection"? You can't be referring to Blackarachnia?

RATCHET  
No, I mean, phone up your old pal Megatron and request in writing how the experiment went down. OF COURSE I MEAN BLACKARACHINA.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
She's a lost cause, Ratchet. She put her own ambition over the value of human life, not to mention she's responsible for Prowl's unstable condition.

RATCHET  
Seeing how Prowl's able to get out and enjoy himself, I'd say his condition is better than yours.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Aren't you the least bit worried about him? I mean, he threatened Sari's life back at the mall.

RATCHET  
Sari's a big girl, she's quite capable of handling herself, but don't change the subject! If you're not gonna get Blackarachnia on the comm, then I will.

Ratchet huffs over to the computer and starts tapping at the keypads.

RATCHET  
I know you have her frequency stored in here somewhere.

Optimus worriedly raises his hands in a stop-motion at Ratchet.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
No! Fine, I'll do it, but you know we can't trust a word she says. For all I know, she could request a meeting in person then ambush me.

RATCHET  
Don't gimme that load a'scrap. You know her well enough to detect any sideways intentions. If she sounds insincere, don't agree to meet her.

Optimus stands silent for a thoughtful moment then reluctantly turns and heads to the exit door again.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(irritated)  
You know something, Ratchet? You could indulge me once in a while and stop being so…right all the time.

Ratchet smiles as he watches his leader leave the base.

RATCHET  
Why quit now when I'm on a roll.

Optimus steps outside and takes in the encouraging sunshine before transforming and revving up his powerful diesel engine. He pulls forward across the unkempt lawn and stops before reaching the street, sitting idle, even though there is no oncoming traffic.

**STARSCREAM'S "NEW LABORATORY"**

Starscream and Blackarachnia are seated at the table working on the energon converter. The seeker is lost in computational thought, scribbling various equations on the electro-tablet while the predacon mindlessly strips wires of their plastic insulation.

Her tedious task is interrupted by the Autobot leader's emerging voice through her private comm frequency.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Blackarachnia, this is Optimus…is it safe to talk?

All four arachnid optics widen as she glances over at Starscream then quickly rises from the table and exits the room without saying a word.

Starscream raises an optic brow enough to watch her leave, but shrugs his curiosity away and resumes his problem solving.

_(Insignia Transition - Decepticon to Autobot)_

**DOWNTOWN DETROIT**

In the less populated outskirts of the city, a familiar red and blue rig pulls into an empty alleyway then transforms into the stately Autobot leader. Blackarachnia watches him approach from her stealthy nook in the rickety fire escape above. Upon seeing that he's unarmed, the large spider lowers herself into view.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What took you so long? You only had to travel across town. I had to cross a great lake!

Optimus senses the playful sarcasm in her voice which relaxes his tension toward the unpredictable meeting.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(cracking an awkward smile)  
Apparently you haven't dealt with Detroit's midday traffic…(expression eases to concern) Have I put you at risk of Megatron's scorn by requesting this meeting?

She transforms and touches down on the concrete, slightly amused by his nervous tone of voice.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Megatron can go slag himself.

This comment catches the Autobot off guard.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
What do you mean? Are you no longer operating under his command?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Yes, I'm still (mimicking his voice) 'operating under his command' but it doesn't mean I agree with methods.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(disappointed)  
But you'll still carry out his abominable experiments at the expense of human life and Prowl's dignity.

She defensively plants her hands on her hips.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Look, if you called me here just to lecture me then I'm gone.

She turns her back to him and points her wrist upward.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(stepping toward her)  
No, wait…please, that's not why I contacted you…Blackarachnia, I'm really worried about Prowl and I want to know as much as possible about the experiment. What exactly did you do to him?

The concern in Optimus' voice stops the predacon from retreating as she looks back over her shoulder and lowers her hand. She takes a moment to simmer down before responding.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(sincere)  
I know you don't trust me anymore, but you must believe that I never wished this on Prowl.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Then why did you kidnap his body?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Have you ever disobeyed a direct order from Megatron? It's not a pleasant experience.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I don't imagine that it is, but you don't have to work for him.

BLACKARACHNIA  
It's better than being tried for treason and rotting in the stockades, which is exactly what'll happen if I turn myself over to your cause.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
If you turn yourself in now, the repercussions will be much less severe then if the Elite Guard captures you as an active participant in the Decepticon army.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You paint such a pretty picture. I can just see it now…the scientists hovering over me, garbed head to servo in protective suits, poking and prying…

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(interrupting)  
I won't let that happen!

BLACKARACHNIA  
You won't have the power to stop it, Optimus…You and I both know this.

He turns away, frustrated, searching his processor for a valid argument to prove her wrong, but comes up dry, knowing too well that she's right.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(desperately)  
I'll help you restore your original form. I know a lot of good science bots on Cybertron, not to mention Ratchet…

BLACKARACHNIA  
I don't need your help…I've already found someone capable of curing me.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Who, Starscream!? Come on Blackarachnia, you're smarter than that. (turning to face her again) Didn't your mishap with Meltdown teach you anything?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(crossing her arms)  
You're lecturing again…Now what exactly do you want to know about Prowl's procedure that you haven't already figured out?

Optimus reluctantly bites his tongue and vents a sigh before returning his focus on the reason for the meeting.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Is there a way to undo the damage?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(almost offended)  
What do mean by damage? The fact that he's alive or that he's infused with organic material?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Don't go there…you know what I mean.

BLACKARACHNIA  
My experiment wasn't intended to be damaging and I certainly never expected Megatron to show up on my doorstep and glom onto my research for his own misdoings, so, to answer your question, no. I never bothered to invent a method of undoing the procedure.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Is it still possible to reverse it?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Yeah…extinguish his spark.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
No! There must be another way! (he paces in frustration) I can't imagine Starscream is pleased to be melded with a human. How does he deal with it and is he working on a cure for himself?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(she observes his mannerisms with slight amusement)  
Starscream is using his human counterpart to his advantage, so he doesn't want to be cured. He's able to access the human's scientific genius and somehow suppress the less desirable aspects such as emotions.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
How can he do that?

BLACKARACHNIA  
I'm guessing his mutated, inextinguishable spark was able to overpower the professor's personality during the synthesizing of the two, which is why Starscream is still…(cringing) Starscream. Prowl, on the other hand, was completely offline to start with, so the convict's brain may have left a deeper scar.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
That's not what I want to hear.

BLACKARACHNIA  
However…I slaughtered the convict and removed his brain pre-maturely…

Optimus looks at her with disappointment.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Oh come on, don't try to guilt trip me for that…he was a disgrace to the human species.

The Autobot leader maintains his look of disapproval, which slightly morphs into pity.

BLACKARACHNIA  
As I was saying, the convict's brain sat around decaying for a while before we…before Megatron carried out the experiment.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
What are you saying?

BLACKARACHNIA  
I'm saying, Prowl may very well be the dominant personality.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
But even the slightest trigger to the convict's memory drastically disrupts him.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Then he needs to avoid experiences that cause such triggers. The human brain is a creature of habit and it prefers to travel on familiar paths. The more Prowl accesses that convict's memories, the more prominent they'll become.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
He definitely acts peculiar whenever the convict's name is mentioned.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Oh, you think? (Optimus scowls at her sarcasm) You need to take him to Cybertron where there'll be very little stimulation to the human's memories.

Optimus looks away and shakes his head in disagreement.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What's that? You think I'm wrong?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I'm not leaving Earth until we've captured Megatron.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Puh-lease! Your past triumphs over Megatron were always aided by one of Starscream's treacherous stunts. You don't stand a chance. For you own safety, I suggest you leave Megatron alone.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Was that a threat?!

BLACKARACHNIA  
No, Optimus, it's a recommendation because I don't want to see you get slagged!

The Autobot is surprised by her display of concern, wondering if she meant to let her spark's true nature surface for a moment or if it acted against her will. Regardless of the cause, he wasn't about to let it retreat without a fight.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(steps closer to her)  
Then why don't you help me take him down? You're in a perfect position.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Nu-uh! No way!

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(frustrated)  
Why!? You aren't one of them, Blackarachnia! I know you're not!

BLACKARACHNIA  
Why don't you let me decide where my loyalties belong. Are we done here?

She turns to walk away but Optimus firmly grabs her hand and pulls her close to him.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What are you doing?

In protest of his actions, she pushes her free hand against his chest and tries to yank the other from his hand.

The Autobot maintains a firm grip on her, but his demeanor is gentle as his hand calms the restless techno-organics claws by pressing them firmly against his chest.

She stops struggling but refuses to look the Autobot in the face.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(nervous and unconvincing)  
Don't do this…please! I need to get back to base. Shockwave's going to tattle my absence…

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(smiling lightheartedly)  
Then go.

He shifts his hand to the small of her back while the other presses her hand tighter against his chassis. This action pulls her in even closer and she awkwardly staggers her feet so as not to step on his. The warmth of his spark drifts up her arm and seeps into her chassis, melting away her apprehension and sending her back to a time when such intimacy could wear the guise of innocence. She musters the courage to meet his captivating gaze with her own. The sincerity in his optics seems to guide her movement as she reaches her free hand up and starts tracing his chin with her claws.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Is this the part where you sting me?

She lightly chuckles at this comment and continues to stare speechlessly into his face, but her smile quickly fades at the blaring contrast between her tainted claws and his noble face.

Optimus can sense her spark slipping back into the layers of darkness and pulls her tighter against him hoping to retrieve it with his own optimistic life force.

BLACKARACHNIA  
This is a futile dream.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
It doesn't have to be.

She brushes her thumb across his mouth before stiffening her arm and firing a silken rope into the fire escape above.

BLACKARACHNIA  
If only I shared your rose-tinted perception on reality.

The Autobot leader accepts the inevitable demise of the moment and reluctantly releases his hold on her. She lingers for a long nano-second then launches upward, leaving a gush of cold wind in her place.

He turns to watch her soar up several stories, searching for the right words to redirect her misguided loyalties, but not a single desperate outburst meets the standards set by his pride and he remains silent as she reaches the rooftop and vanishes from view.


	12. Those Quirky Quintessons

A/N: I didn't orginally plan in to include Waspinator, but a reader on suggested an interest in him, so...here he is. I'm very prone to suggestion! I recommend you take advantage of that and hit me with some praise/critique/all-out-hate (preferably not the later ^_^)

* * *

**CYBERTRON - KAON - GLADITORIAL ARENA**

Waspinator buzzes and growls under the strain of Brawn and Cliffjumper wrapped around each of his gangly arms like burdensome stasis chains.

BRAWN  
(through gritted teeth)  
Back off Cliffjumper! I said I don't need your help.

CLIFFJUMPER  
(talking between grunts)  
You're…delusional. This…freakish organicon…is five times your size.

Waspinator effortlessly yanks Cliffjumper up to impale him with a glare from his threatening insect optics.

WASPINATOR  
Bouncybot not wanted here. Waspinator even the odds.

The giant predacon hurls Cliffjumper toward the arena benches with the controlled style of a major league pitcher. The scrappy red bot soars across the combat pit, directly toward the two occupants of the front row, who each cast their own unique expression upon his aerials: Swindle smiling contentedly and Ironhide cringing with disappointment. Cliffjumper braces his landing with shock-absorbing arms then springs over the spectators, each acrobatic landing upon the bleachers whittles down his momentum until he gracefully plants down on his feet a few rows back from Swindle and Ironhide.

The predacon let his guard down to watch Cliffjumper's actions, and Brawn seizes him by the ankle, disrupting his balance and causing the overgrown insect to slam down on his side with a buzzing grunt of surprise. Gripping both his ankle and wrist, Brawn drags his opponent along the ground as he winds up to prepare for a powerful spinning throw. A couple revolutions is all the husky Autobot needs to summon his reliable buddy, Centrifugal Force, then he releases his grip, sending his opponent hurdling through the air, sentencing him with a verdict decided by gravity and the pit floor.

Waspinator slams face first into the ground with an undignified yelp.

SWINDLE  
(genuinely impressed)  
Not bad! I underestimated the gruffy ol' bot.

CLIFFJUMPER  
(arms crossed in protest)  
He couldn't of pulled it off with my help.

SWINDLE  
I venture to disagree. Your comrade there is star material, the perfect addition to my evening line-up of capable entertainers.

IRONHIDE  
Forget it, Swindle. Autobots have never played a role in this sideways sport and I intend to keep it that way, even if I have to drag Brawn out kickin' and screamin'.

SWINDLE  
(mockingly chuckles)  
Autobot ignorance is so priceless, it's almost cute.

Waspinator peels his face from the floor and snaps to his feet with a vengeance.

WASPINATOR  
Surlybot pay for cheap shot!

Waspinator charges the Autobot like a raging bull, further infuriated by the satisfied smile smeared across his opponent's face. Brawn firmly stands his ground like a rugby goalie, servos splayed in anticipation. The collision inevitably pushes Brawn back a several meters, serenaded by the harmony of grunts, growls and the scraping sound of the Autobot's feet along the ground. Each fighter leans into to the other, fingers interlocked, but Brawn's able to regain some lost ground after Waspinator's initial momentum wears off, and the unbreakable Autobot pushes forward with slow and powerful steps.

Waspinator quickly bores of the intimate deadlock and decides he'd rather view his opponent from a distance. With a preparatory crouch followed immediately by a wrenching half twist, the predacon flings Brawn along the same trajectory as Cliffjumper just a few cycles prior.

Brawn flails through the air, on a direct course toward Ironhide's confounded gape. Swindle flinchingly balls up, wrapping his arms protectively over his head, while Cliffjumper dives behind Ironhide. The thick red Autobot valiantly rises and coats himself with the metallic safeguard that earned him his name, and not a moment before his airborne comrade slams into his chest plate and drops to his feet like a limp protoform.

After the dust settles, Cliffjumper peeks out to survey the damage and upon seeing Brawn painstakingly sit up, the scrapper bursts into mocking laughter.

BRAWN  
(wearily rubbing the back of his neck)  
Cliffjumper, I swear to the creator…

Swindle unfurls from his shameful cowardice and quickly regains his charismatic composure, flipping his attention to the triumphant but obviously exhausted predacon.

Waspinator advances on his spectators with drudging strides, dismissive of the drain to his energon levels.

WASPINATOR  
(breathless)  
Who's next?

Swindle signals his prize fighter with a halting gesture.

SWINDLE  
That'll do, bug. I don't need you wasting anymore valuable energon unless I can charge admission for it. (shooing him away) Now go recharge on some low-grade…

Waspinator drops his shoulders in discontent and turns away, plodding toward the nearest of several corridors edging the pit floor.

SWINDLE  
…and don't willingly dish out my energon to the repair femmes this time. I pay those girls to make you pretty, not leech off your luxuries.

WASPINATOR  
(under his breath)  
Puh, luxuries…Waspinator fall over dead if dealerbot actually spring for luxury.

Ironhide hooks his hands under Brawn's arms and helps him to his feet.

IRONHIDE  
You fought well buddy, now let's get outta here!

SWINDLE  
Not so fast Ironhide, let the courageous mech kick back and revel in his achievement for a moment.

CLIFFJUMPER  
What achievement? He lost!

Brawn pins his antagonist with a mortally threatening glare, enough to make Cliffjumper step back in near regret.

SWINDLE  
Are you kidding me? He gave my prize fighter a serious run for his energon. If matched against one of the run-of-the-mill gladiators in my arsenal, he would've mopped the floor with their skid plates then taken their maternal units to dinner.

IRONHIDE  
Enough Swindle, we're leaving now.

Ironhide tries to guide Brawn toward the exit, but he's met with resistance.

BRAWN  
Ease up, Ironhide. I wanna hear about these other gladiators. (turns to Swindle) You can't mean the drunken empties populating Kaon? Anyone could defeat those sorry excuses for sentient beings. Who have you managed to wrangle into this?

SWINDLE  
I'm so glad you asked. My gladiators are a fine collection of mechs, ranging from academy dropouts to undecideds to Decepticon deserters, all with a unified distaste for that pretty little symbol on your chassis.

Brawn's optics light up with a deranged craving and he grinds his fist into his servos.

BRAWN  
Ain' nothing like making an undecided's mind up for him.

SWINDLE  
And you're just the mech for the job, brimming with battle experience and feats of strength packaged deceptively in that small but sturdy chas…

BRAWN  
Enough with the four-play, Swindle, what are you trying to peddle on me?

SWINDLE  
(dramatically gestures like a stage performer)  
I offer you…the spotlight!

**IACON - SPACE BRIDGE CONTROL ROOM**

Chromia taps the side of her helm as she strolls to the stack of various engineering supplies on the transwarp platform.

CHROMIA  
(into comm)  
Shockwave, it's Chromia.

She removes a small data pad from her hip and meticulously compares the contents on the platform to the written list.

CHROMIA  
Oh slag, I forgot the spritzer.

SHOCKWAVE  
I copy. What is the status of our shipment?

CHROMIA  
Just about ready to transwarp.

SHOCKWAVE  
Excellent work. I'm impressed by your procurement of space bridge permissions yet again,

CHROMIA  
Well don't be, 'cause I didn't get any this time.

She approaches the control panel and diligently taps the transwarp coordinates into the keypads. The warp pad hums to life with a sliding pitch and the room gradually illuminates with a blue glow.

CHROMIA  
The powers-that-be are aware you guys hitched a bridge ride after the escape, so they limited access permissions to a meager few a top the food chain.

SHOCKWAVE  
So you're using one of their access codes?

CHROMIA  
You betcha. If they bother to trace the signature stamp of this delivery, it'll point them to Sentinel.

SHOCKWAVE  
What if Sentinel Prime is questioned about it?

CHROMIA  
Pff…did Longarm ever bother to interrogate Sentinel on potentially questionable matters?

SHOCKWAVE  
Of course not. I'd rather have short circuited than subject myself to any unessential conversing with him.

CHROMIA  
Exactly, most bots here…

She's interrupted by the echoing of voices and two pairs of footsteps drawing closer to the closed door of the control room. She springs over the control panel and ducks behind it, optics nervously darting side to side. The uninvited clamor ceases upon reaching the door, obviously distracted by the familiar mechanical song of transwarp energy.

SHOCKWAVE  
Chromia? Are you still there?

She gasps as one of the intruding bots starts tapping a code into the security panel next to the door. The desperate double-agent frantically searches the room for a last minute solution but the glow of transwarp energy is now blinding and just when door latch becomes one less barrier between her and an awkward explanation, she dives upon the dematerializing stack of supplies.

Wheeljack and Warpath enter the room just as the transwarp luminescence retreats into a singularity above the warp pad, leaving the room in a dead silence. Wheeljack looks questionably at his partner then approaches the control panel, tapping a few commands into the keypad.

WHEELJACK  
Huh…Sentinel must've accessed it from a remote location.

WARPATH  
Why would he do that?

WHEELJACK  
(shrugs)  
S'beyond me? You wanna ask him?

WARPATH  
Slag no!

Wheeljack dismissively turns away from the control panel and heads for the door, followed by Warpath who's equally unbothered by the events.

WHEELJACK  
No doubt he's scrappin' up the system again with his divine technical ineptitude.

**CYBERTRON - KAON - GLADITORIAL ARENA**

Brawn lounges across a stadium bench gripping a can of oil, grinning contentedly as a pair of trashy but sprightly repair femmes pound out his dents and wax his chassis. Swindle is perched on the bench one row up, performing a sales pitch with his vivid facial expressions and dynamic hand gestures. Cliffjumper is captivated by dealer's ramblings as he sucks down a can of oil, but Ironhide stands a couple rows up, impatiently tapping his foot.

IRONHIDE  
Let's get a move on you two!

Everyone ignores his bubble-bursting voice of reason.

SWINDLE  
Only two evenings a week, all travel and repair expenses covered, and you get the pick of the litter from my glamorous line-up of sponsors. I've got some excellent companies on-board from top-notch refiners to cutting-edge mod manufactures.

CLIFFJUMPER  
What about Quintessonian weaponry?

Cliffjumper's question robs Swindle of his seemingly permanent smile and the dealer glares down at the impetuous Autobot.

SWINDLE  
What about it?

BRAWN  
(chiming in with a lazy voice)  
We saw the pretty peace offering you gave Vibes…where'd you get it?

Swindle pauses for an uncharacteristically silent nano-klik then revives his signature smile, which is now wider than before.

SWINDLE  
Oh, that ol' thing was just a prototype than never found its way to the Great War frontier. I got it in a trade centuries ago, back when the Quints used to run this operation.

Ironhide shifts a concerned glance to Cliffjumper who returns a look of skepticism.

SWINDLE  
Primus forbid those miscreants get their tentacles into the arena scene again. They brought shame to the business, equipping the gladiators with their war-grade blasters and stripping away the brutal dignity of servo-to-servo combat.

CLIFFJUMPER  
I'm amazed Megatron allowed them to deface his precious sporting events.

SWINDLE  
That tunnel-visioned warmonger didn't give two scraps about the arena once he and his army gallivanted off to war.

Ironhide adamantly approaches his wayward companions, grabbing each of them by the arm like a scolding parent and tugging them up the bleacher steps toward the exit. The repair femmes pout with insult as Brawn is ripped from their pampering.

IRONHIDE  
C'mon guys, let's get back on track. If you wanna learn about Megatron's history then I'd be glad to direct you to the Hall of Records. Swindle, I'm sure my colleague appreciates your generous offer, but being an active member of the Autobot army, he must refrain from such worldly temptations.

Brawn yanks his arm free, offended by Ironhide's brash assumptions.

BRAWN  
I'm quite capable of making my own decisions, Ironhide, especially in regard to how I spend my free time.

The stout Autobot reaches his stubby servos out to the dealer.

BRAWN  
You have a written contract I can take with me?

Swindles obligingly slips a data pad from the inventory drawer on his chest and presents it to Brawn with an endearing grin.

Ironhide opens his mouth to protest the exchange but remains hopelessly silent, realizing his attempts are futile against the old bot's stubbornness.

SWINDLE  
No pressure to commit.

Brawn lightly chuckles as he snatches the data pad and turns to follow his comrades.

BRAWN  
Yeah, right.

The Autobots continue up the bleachers and through the arched doorway.

SWINDLE  
(serenading their exit)  
You have my comm frequency, don't hesitate to use it if you have any questions.

Once the Autobots are out of ear-shot, the dealer slips off his mask of sincerity and assumes a comfortably befitting, sleazy smirk.

SWINDLE  
So, ladies, how 'bout buffing up the ol' chassis?

With fingers strumming across his chest plate, he twists around with anticipation, then immediately glowers at the sight of the femmes strolling away, dismissive of his request and gleefully treasuring two salvaged cans of oil, left behind by the Autobots.

SWINDLE  
Typical.

**EARTH - DECEPTICON BASE - MAIN ROOM**

Starscream bursts through the door from his lab and wastes no time before unleashing his impatience at the single occupant of the room, who's dutifully perched at the computer console, looking over the large monitor with his single red optic.

STARSCREAM  
Where are my supplies?!

Shockwave refuses to acknowledge the obnoxious seeker with anything but an apathetic response.

SHOCKWAVE  
They're en route as we speak…not that it wouldn't kill you to exercise a little patience.

STARSCREAM  
I have no time for patience. (ponderingly surveys the room) Where has everyone else gone?

SHOCKWAVE  
Megatron and Lugnut are seeking more All Spark fragments and Blackarachnia's whereabouts are, in her words, none of my slagging business.

The dull atmosphere is suddenly filled with the familiar sound and light show signature to transwarp energy. The two 'cons narrow their optics at the beaming silhouette that materializes on the expanse of floor between them and the hum of energy is gradually overtaken by feminine vocals drumming out the same word over and over.

CHROMIA  
Slag, Slag, Slag…

The blinding glow retreats in a flash, leaving Shockwave and Starscream to questionably stare upon the stack of engineering supplies draped with their double-agent.

She springs up in a rage and stomps around the supplies like a temperamental sparkling.

CHROMIA  
Vector slaggin' Sigma and a bucket of scrap!

Her narrative entrance has sparked amusement from Starscream, but the ever logical Shockwave rises up, aghast.

SHOCKWAVE  
Chromia! Explain this at once!

She snaps herself from the tantrum upon hearing Shockwave's voice and glides up to base of the elevated platform, gazing desperately upon her interrogator.

CHROMIA  
Shockwave, you must believe…I was between a rock and hard place…if those two bots caught me, my cover would've been blown for sure. I had no other choice.

SHOCKWAVE  
(unconvinced)  
Only two Autobots? I was under the assumption your mesmerizing abilities were quite powerful.

Starscream starts fumbling through the stack of supplies, scrutinizing each object with a skeptical optic.

CHROMIA  
(pleading)  
They are powerful…on a single target…I can't take on more than one bot at a time.

STARSCREAM  
Then what good are you?

Her pleading is momentarily silenced by the seeker's insult, but she fights the urge to retort and continues fishing for pity from her mentor.

CHROMIA  
Please Shockwave, don't let Megatron catch me here…he'll scrap me for sure.

Starscream continues to rummage through the supplies but with increasing irritation.

STARSCREAM  
I'm liable to scrap you if I don't find my spritzer in the next nano-klik.

Chromia grits her teeth then inevitably succumbs to her frustration, popping her wings open and vengefully rushing the prodding seeker, who steps back with shock and amusement.

CHROMIA  
To the pit with your spritzer!

Shockwave springs up and advances upon the heated femme, forcing her wings closed with his clawed servos.

SHOCKWAVE  
Please refrain from processor-fragging other Decepticons, Chromia, (pins Starscream a glare) regardless of how deserving they are of it.

Random Blitzwing emerges from the lab door, jagged red grin cheerful as always.

RANDOM BLITZWING  
Did someone say sprtizer? OOOoooOOoo, Vhat are vee celebrating?

Shockwave's intervention combined with the triple-changer's bold entrance is enough to snap the femme from her fit of rage. She vents of a long stream of hot hair and desperately tries to ignore the incessant smirk of her antagonist.

CHROMIA  
You'll soon be celebrating my execution at the hand of Megatron.

STARSCREAM  
Now that sounds enterta…

SHOCKWAVE  
(snapping at the seeker)  
Enough jeering, you tactless protoform.

He releases his grip on the femme and gestures toward the supplies.

SHOCKWAVE  
Now remove your precious supplies and your infuriating presence from this room.

Starscream's amusement melts into offense, but he calmly scoops up an armload of supplies and sneers at the power-tripping cyclops.

STARSCREAM  
You have no authority over me. (he proudly turns and saunter's toward the lab door) You're just lucky I'm in a hurry to make use of this stuff. Blitzwing! Gather the remaining supplies and bring them to my lab.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
Do it yourself, girlymech!

SHOCKWAVE  
(nearly mad from aggravation)  
Silence! All of you!

The frustrated intelbot gestures to the femme to follow him up onto the computer console's platform.

SHOCKWAVE  
As far as Megatron's concerned, this slip-up never occurred. I will show you the location of the Autobot's space bridge and you will depart this base before he returns.

She follows Shockwave, still shocked at the juvenile exchanges that appear to be routine Decepticon behavior and disgusted that she let herself participate in it.

SHOCKWAVE  
Are you capable of devising a convincing alibi that accounts for your inability to transport yourself back to Cybertron?

CHROMIA  
Um…I could tell them I slipped out from under Sentinel's radar to visit Prowl. He and I were in the academy together, so it's believable that I would break protocol to visit him and marvel in his resurrection.

SHOCKWAVE  
(doubtfully)  
Hmmm…

CHROMIA  
(questioning)  
What, hmmm?

SHOCKWAVE  
The effect of a past kinship coupled with the influence of Optimus Prime's nobility will weigh heavily on your Autobot programming, jeopardizing your ability to continue this deception.

CHROMIA  
A little faith, Sir. I can handle it.

SHOCKWAVE  
Logic is much more reliable than faith.

CHROMIA  
Okay then, here's a logic bender for you, I don't have any Autobot programming at risk of a moral reboot. The Quintessons were my creators and they were ones I imprinted on, not the Autobots.

Despite the casual delivery of her words, the rooms goes silent as Shockwave and Icy Blitzwing gape at her with bewildered repulsion.

The silence is shattered as Starscream bursts back onto the scene.

STARSCREAM  
I've done it!

He snatches the remaining supplies and scurries back into his lab, leaving a trail of mumbles about tweaking this and adjusting that. His presence temporarily captured everyone's attention, but the two cons quickly return their stares upon her.

HOTHEAD BLITZING  
How is zat possible? Zee Quintessons are disgusting creatures and you…(switching to Icy) are not.

CHROMIA  
Simple. A few rogue Quints stole a couple pre-sparked protoforms, toyed with designs inspired by both factions' models, and, bam, there I was.

SHOCKWAVE  
A couple? Who else did they create?

CHROMIA  
Swindle.

The mention of the dealer's name recall's Blitzwing's hot temper.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
(balling up his fists)  
Zat explains his complete lack of moral fiber! (switches to Random) And all zis time I zought his diet was to blame!

Shockwave flashes the triple-changer a look of death then slowly returns his focus on the femme.

SHOCKWAVE  
What were their intentions in your creation?

Chromia leans back on the computer console, pleased to offer more enlightenment upon the pair of questioning optics.

CHROMIA  
Condensed version, the Quints needed a couple pretty faces to handle the PR aspects of running the Gladiatorial Arenas, and Primus knows they were too stingy to hire any bots for the job, so they created a pair of ideally faithful, yet underpaid, employees. They trained us in the fine art of underhanded business, putting me in charge of negotiating contracts with the fighters and Swindle in charge of merchandising, and by merchandise, I mean…

Her words are rudely cut off by Starscream's sudden reemergence into the room. He excitedly advances on the annoyed three, clutching a piecemeal device in one hand and an energon cube casing full of purple silken mesh in the other.

STARSCREAM  
Drop whatever conversation you were having, THIS is much more important.

Chromia crosses her arms with offense and Blitzwing is on the verge of punching the pompous invader off the platform.

Starscream flips a switch on his device and it hums to life and builds an electrostatic field around the All Spark fragment positioned in its center. The ecstatic seeker places the cube atop the device and holds the strange invention out for everyone to gaze upon.

The three skeptical faces morph to awe as they witness the silken fibers within the cube slowly melt into pink radiating liquid.

STARSCREAM  
I…am…a genius.

SHOCKWAVE  
(skeptical)  
You crafted an invention that transmutes spider webbing into energon? Of all the useless…

STARSCREAM  
Bite you tongue, I'm not finished.

SHOCKWAVE  
I don't have a tongue.

The seemingly mad scientist grabs the cube and shoves it into Blitzwing's chest.

STARSCREAM  
Drink this!

The triple-changer calls upon his random persona to carry out the pleasurable request.

RANDOM BLITZWING  
If you insist!

Starscream gently forces his invention into Shockwave's claws, then soars down across the room to the recently-blasted emergency exit. He crouches down and starts eagerly collecting heaps of dirt.

Chromia observes Starscream with perplexity and Shockwave impatiently waits for a verdict from Blitzwing as he finishes every last drop of energon.

SHOCKWAVE  
Well, is it pure or not?

Random Blitzwing is miraculously left speechless and retreats to his Icy form to report his outcome.

ICY BLITWING  
Zat is..zee purest…smoozest…most satisfying energon I have ever ingested.

SHOCKWAVE  
Surely you're joking.

Starscream pops back onto the platform, trailing dirt everywhere, and dumps his armload into the cube still clutched in Blitzwing's hand.

STARSCREAM  
He speaks the truth. My transmuted energon laughs in the face of the highest high-grade in all the universe.

He takes the cube from Blitzwing and places it upon the device still resting in Shockwave's grasp.

After a second round of mechanical humming and electrostatic energy, the dirt miraculously converts into rich, enticing pink liquid. Shockwave immediately lowers a spiked antennae into the liquid.

The other three look upon him with anticipation as his red optic shrinks in disbelief.

SHOCKWAVE  
Un-slagging-believable!


	13. Rumble at the Zoo

**DETROIT ZOO**

The sun sits heavy in Detroit's evening sky, casting a magical orange glow over the few lingering visitors at the zoo. Prowl & Bumblebee stand at the edge of the outdoor Giraffe habitat. Sari is seated atop Bumblebee's shoulders and the three of them, each with a unique expression, look upon the towering animals.

PROWL  
Fascinating.

SARI  
Tall.

BUMBLEBEE  
Boooring.

PROWL  
So graceful…and elegant.

The ninja is lost in innocent captivation as a giraffe looks upon him with only a fraction of interest.

PROWL  
Look at that…it's watching us. I wonder what it's thinking?

Sari's turns to watch Prowl ogle the animals and lightly sighs a quiet smile.

BUMBLEBEE  
Same thing I am. Is it closing time yet?

The girl bonks the sarcastic bot on the head.

SARI  
Knock it off, Bee! The zoo staff gave us special-hero-after-hours access so Prowl can stay as long as he wants.

BUMBLEBEE  
(flat)  
How generous of them. (suddenly hit with epiphany) I wonder if this hero pass works at the amusement park?

Sari cups her hand over Bumblebee's mouth.

SARI  
Aren't you glad you came, Prowl?

PROWL  
(attention still locked on the giraffes)  
Yes, quite. The diversity on this planet continues to astound me…so rich with complex ecosystems yet guided so simplistically by the goal of survival.

Bumblebee leans against the railing, resting his chin into his palm and strumming impatient fingers across his face.

The ninja stands still and silent, hitching on a flood of thoughts and growing distant in contemplation.

PROWL  
(to no one in particular)  
It's truly a shame the human species has resorted to such detached and negligent methods of survival.

After processing the ninja's words a moment, Sari furrows her brow with uncertainty.

PROWL  
(almost in a trance)  
They're hardly deserving of such--

Prowl's suspicious rambling is interrupted by the roar of jet engines overhead, invoking gawks of surprise from the three.

BUMBLEBEE  
What are military aircraft doing so close to…wait a klik!

A frighteningly familiar gray and black helicopter accompanied by a purple bomber burst out of the clouds.

SARI  
Is that Megatron?!

BUMBLEBEE  
And Lugnut!!

The infamous aircraft roar over the Autobot's heads, sending frightened Giraffes galloping to the edges of their habitat.

PROWL  
(at a loss of words)  
This is…not good.

The Decepticons transform and touch down in the mimicked plains of Africa.

Megatron takes quick notice of his onlookers and anxiously bounces his attention between them and the tracking device in his grasp.

MEGATRON  
(angered)  
There is no fragment here at all. The energy readings are coming from that wretched little half-breed.

The gladiator averts his focus from Sari to the resurrected ninja and his anger dissolves into cunning as he cracks a devious smile.

Bumblebee slides Sari off his shoulders and onto the ground. He steps in front of her and nervously readies his stingers, never once removing his optics from their enemies.

Prowl crouches down, hands hovering over his shuriken-bearing wheels.

SARI  
(discretely into comm)  
Optimus Prime, come in! Megatron and Lugnut are at the zoo!

She gasps as Lugnut boldly steps forward, readying his missile launchers.

LUGNUT  
I will end you, Autobots, in the name of the mighty…

Megatron snaps his arm out in front of the eager giant.

MEGATRON  
(still smiling)  
Wait! Why waste your energon when a secret weapon is at hand, bearing the name…(raises his voice) Jeffrey Simon.

The forbidden name jars Prowl's processor like a crashing wave and he drops his head into his hands, cringing and growling in resistance.

Megatron steps forward, smirking with accomplishment.

MEGATRON  
Tell me, Mr. Simon, do these pseudo-allies truly understand you? Do they share your aspirations of vigilante justice or are they, once again, brainwashing you with delusional propaganda?

BUMBLEBEE  
(slowly turns in confusion toward Prowl)  
What the spark is he talking abou…(shocked at Prowl's condition) Prowl, no!

Sari latches onto to Prowl's leg, tugging and jerking in desperation.

SARI  
Prowl, look at me!

The distressed ninja breaks from his writhing for just a moment to painstakingly peer down at the girl.

PROWL  
(helpless whisper)  
Run…Sari…I can't…control this.

SARI  
Yes you can! Don't listen to Megatron, he's trying to trick you!

MEGATRON  
(pursuing with pride)  
Lies, Mr. Simon, that's all they have to offer you. They merely shove you on the sidelines to sit idle while heinous crimes are committed in the name of progress. Worldwide suffering, millions in poverty, landscapes demolished, and they expect you to protect the gluttonous lives of those responsible.

Prowl slowly raises his head up and looks upon Megatron with near-revelation.

PROWL  
(strained)  
He's…he's right.

SARI  
No, Prowl!

She darts her optics around, desperately looking for means of distraction then locks upon Bumblebee's signature weapon.

SARI  
Sting him, Bee!

The ninja's foot is yanked from the girl's grasp as Prowl's drawn into his deceiver.

BUMBLEBEE  
(double-takes with shock)  
Say what!?

Sari stumbles back a few steps, watching Prowl with horror as he stops advancing and stands shuddering in resistance at the incessant neural assault.

SARI  
I said sting him! Snap him out of it!

BUMBLEBEE  
How do you know that'll--

SARI  
(screaming)  
Just trust me!

Bumblebee fearfully cringes at the task presented to him. He freezes for undecided moment, optics bouncing from Sari to Prowl to the Decepticons. He then thrusts forward with a defiant cry, averting his optics away and plunging his weapon into Prowl's back.

Prowl stiffens up, hollering in pain then crumbling to his knees.

The panicked yellow bot remorsefully falls to his aid, clutching the wounded ninja's upper body.

Megatron spews a sinister chuckle at the events, which doesn't go unnoticed by Sari. A deluge of anger wells up inside her as she pins Megatron with a despising glare.

SARI  
You monster!

The temperamental teenager transforms (suits up) in a flash and rockets toward the towering antagonist, firing blasts of energy one after the other, aimed directly at his conniving smirk.

BUMBLEBEE  
Sari, no!

Megatron eagerly accepts the pathetic challenge, deflecting her attacks with his sword with mocking laughter.

Lugnut beholds the attack, festering at the blasphemous actions upon his leader.

LUGNUT  
You will pay for attacking the glory of…OUCH!

Sari blasts Lugnut in the mouth before he can finish. The monstrous mech reacts with a roar and ejects a vengeful set of missiles at her.

She twists, dives and jerks through the air, clumsily avoiding each missile except for one that grazes the metal plating on her arm.

With a frightened scream, she grasps at the exposed circuitry on her upper arm.

Bumblebee is still attending to Prowl but watches the event plays out with terror.

BUMBLEBEE  
Sari! Back off!

PROWL  
(weakened whisper)  
Grab Sari and get out of here, Bumblebee.

BUMBLEBEE  
No way, I'm not leaving you behind!

The girl is left hovering breathlessly and quickly regretting her impulsive attack.

She turns to flee but is unable to prevent the massive black hand that snatches her from the air.

MEGATRON  
(marvels at his captive)  
Ahhh, the offspring of the mighty Sumdac empire.

Bumblebee is now pushed to near hysteria, torn between aiding his injured comrade and attempting a rescue of his beloved companion.

MEGATRON  
(beckoning)  
Oh Mr. Simon…

The rattled yellow bot feels Prowl's limp body jerk in reaction to Megatron's words.

BUMBLEBEE  
Oh no, not again. C'mon, Prowl, fight it! You're too weak to take another sting and I sure as scrap ain't puttin' you in cuffs.

MEGATRON  
(continuing)  
Are you familiar with Sumdac Systems? Leading manufacturer of consumer robotics? Imagine the irony if the company's heir was killed by the very seed of its existence.

Megatron clenches his servos around the girl and she yelps in fear.

Bumblebee leaps up in panic.

BUMBLEBEE  
(desperately pleading)  
No, Megatron! Please, take me instead.

MEGATRON  
Just say the word, Mr. Simon and together we can teach those greedy capitalists a hard lesson of life.

Prowl has been reduced to a shuddering heap, doubled-over in an undignified crouch, clutching his head tight enough to warp the golden chevron on his helm.

BUMBLEBEE  
(with determination)  
Look at me, Prowl!…Forget Megatron, forget your…imposter. Think happy thoughts. Find your…zen place, with trees and stillness and…(sheepishly) not me.

Megatron scowls at the little yellow bot and turns to Lugnut.

MEGATRON  
Silence that overly-verbose annoyance.

Lugnut perks up to the command and instantly fires a barrage of missiles.

LUGNUT  
With pleasure, my Lord!

MEGATRON  
(gasping)  
Not like that, you fool. You'll harm the ninj…

Megatron and Lugnut are instantly puzzled by the lack of explosion from Lugnut's assault.

Bumblebee is frozen in utter disbelief as four missiles stare him in the face. In his periphery, he can barely make out a tan and black hand steadily splayed next to his head. His optics follow down the arm of the eerily still hand and meet the narrow blue optic visor of his friend.

Even Sari, despite her situation, gapes in awe at the miraculous events.

The missiles drop one by one to the ground.

Afraid to move, Bumblebee just stares in reverence at Prowl as the graceful ninja assumes his signature Lotus position.

A deep hum, barely more than a vibration from Prowl's core serenades his outstretched arm as he steadily guides it to point at Lugnut.

Lugnut growls in frustration, jerking his arms in small, awkward movements.

LUGNUT  
What's happening? Why can't I move!?

Megatron grumbles through gritted teeth at the unexpected events and squeezes Sari until her jet pack creaks and bends, then continues to squeeze until she releases a frightened scream.

Her cries do not go unnoticed by the ninja.

The cruel Decepticon is suddenly confused by his inability to crush the girl as a mysterious tugging sensation loosens his lethal grip. His attention snaps to Prowl.

MEGATRON  
It can't be!

Prowl sits with legs crossed and both arms stretched out, servo-splayed hands pointing at each of the Decepticons.

Megatron, now brimming with anger, powers up his cannon and raises his arm toward the Autobots.

MEGATRON  
This ends now.

Sari desperately reacts and electric jolts surge from her body into her captor's hand, which successfully throw off the aim of the blast.

BUMBLEBEE  
(gawking at Prowl)  
Whoa! You're controlling both of them?

Both Prowl and Bumblebee are startled by the rush of firepower from Megatron's cannon that whizzes by, deafeningly close the ninja's audio receptor.

PROWL  
(flinching)  
Hardly!

Lugnut roars under the maddening strain, stretching Prowl's supernatural grasp to its boundaries.

PROWL  
(strained)  
Could you…please…distract Lugnut.

BUMBLEBEE  
(without a second thought)  
Sure thing!

He dives over the railing and transforms mid-air, tires instantly kicking up grass and dirt once he hits the ground.

Prowl releases his hold on Lugnut and focuses completely on Megatron, who viciously growls at the ghost force restraining his limbs.

Bumblebee speeds toward Lugnut, blaring his horn.

BUMBLEBEE  
Hey, you sorry skid plate kisser!

He zips between Lugnut's legs and flies into a ground-shredding turn.

Lugnut enlightens at regaining control of his body and savagely darts his attention to the ground around him, searching for the screeching annoyance.

BUMBLEBEE  
(jeering)  
I'm curious…does Megatron hold your pistons when you spring a leak!?

MEGATRON  
(jabbed by the Autobot's comment)  
Do you honestly think you can stop us with mockery and mind tricks!

Lugnut rears his shoulder up, clenching his claws into a ball, then releases with monumental force, striking the ground with his signature punch. The earth crumbles under Bumblebee and the little car slides backward, tires spinning out in futility.

The shattering impact breaks Prowl's concentration and he loses his hold on Megatron.

Megatron is jostled by the quake and Sari slips from his grip, screaming as she falls. Her cries beckon a second wind in the ninja and he springs over the railing, propelling into bike-mode.

Bumblebee catches a glimpse of her fall in his rear-view mirror and slams himself into reverse, curving down into the crater's pit then launching out, b-lining for the girl.

Prowl transforms mid-air and barely catches Sari with outstretched arms. They both gasp helplessly at the sight of a little yellow car barreling toward them. In panic of the collision, Bumblebee pops into robot mode and hollers as he inevitably slams into Prowl. The three tumble to the ground with series of gripes and grunts and end up in a heap at Megatron's feet.

The Decepticon leader smiles at the visage of his enemies directly in the crosshairs of his arm cannon. The signature weapon hums to life with its ominous power-up song.

MEGATRON  
I will enjoy this.

Megatron's moment is shattered when a red and blue axe gouges forcefully into his neck, provoking a holler of painful shock.

Optimus Prime, with jet pack equipped, soars over Megatron's head then quickly turns over and fires a foam blast into Lugnut's face.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(directed at the Autobots)  
Get outta there!

The Autobots transform in a blur with Sari placed atop the bike, then speed toward Optimus Prime, who's just planted valiantly down to the ground.

Megatron writhes in pain and reaches a shuddering hand to the axe impaled in the vital circuitry of his neck.

The three Autobots ready themselves for attack. Sari takes refuge behind Prowl's foot, trying to stand tall despite the sting of her superficial injuries.

Lugnut wipes the foam from his largest optic just in time to witness the ambush upon him by a pair of shuriken and streams of electricity.

Megatron painstakingly raises his cannon toward the Autobots only to have it snatched off his arm by a grappling hook.

Optimus Prime quickly retracts his hook and arms himself with the cannon as if it were a baseball bat. He fires up his jet boosters and launches forward, plowing the cannon into the Decepticon leader's leg. The impact reverberates through Megatron's damaged circuitry, and reduces the gladiator down to one knee . Optimus, resisting the temptation to marvel at his accomplishment, drops the cannon and grips the handle of his axe, yanking it out of Megatron's neck with one swift pull aided by the boost of his jet pack. An explosion of fluids gush from the fallen tyrant's wound and he howls in agony.

Lugnut's distracted by his leader's cries and drops his jaw at the horrendous gore as it rains down on him. He halfheartedly fires a set of missiles at his multiple attackers as a means to busy them, then continues to gape in disbelief at the severity of his leader's injury. Optimus watches his teammates dodge the missiles with scattered panic. Enraged, Lugnut knocks the distracted Autobot leader into the ground with a vengeful punch, then attempts to help Megatron to his feet.

Megatron grips his gushing wound, energon leaking from between his fingers. His optics blaze a malicious crimson and his teeth practically crack under the clenching pressure. He slowly rises to a wobbly stand, shunning the helping claws offered by his faithful soldier and mustering a painful surge of strength that enables him to blast off of the ground and creak into copter-mode.

MEGATRON  
(weakly)  
Retreat, Lugnut. We've lost the upper hand.

Lugnut growls in frustration then dutifully complies to the order, grabbing his leader's weapon off the ground and launching upward.

LUGNUT  
(shouting while transforming)  
Mark my words, Autobots. Megatron will be avenged!

His booming voices trails off with the roar of turbines and copter blades. Bumblebee raises a stinger over his head and bellows in retaliation.

BUMBLEBEE  
Take your clichés and shove 'em up your waste port, Jugnuts!

Optimus Prime peels his upper body from flattened ground beneath him and sighs with relief as he watches the enemy disappear into clouds.

Prowl staggers down to a collapsed crouch, slumping his weight into his arms and releasing a gust of air from his ventilators. Sari slides out from behind his the ninja's foot, wraps around his arm, and gazes worriedly up into his dimming visor.

SARI  
Prowl?

PROWL  
(his ventillations become and uneven)  
That was…exhausting. Megatron knows exactly what buttons to press to summon my imposter.

SARI  
Not even! You totally overpowered him.

Optimus groans as he rises to his feet, assisted by Bumblebee's helping hand.

BUMBLEBEE  
You shoulda seen Prowl in action, Prime! He juggled those losers like pea sacks.

SARI  
(rolling her eyes)  
Bean bags.

BUMBLEBEE  
Whatever! It was amazing!

Prowl regretfully looks upon Sari's mangled jet pack and various cuts and scrapes.

PROWL  
You're hurt.

SARI  
(shrugging)  
I'll live. (tilts head in concern) I'm more worried about you.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(approaching Prowl and Sari)  
As am I. How're you feeling, Prowl?

PROWL  
Like hammered scrap.

BUMBLEBEE  
Whoa! Did you just curse?!

Optimus kneels next to Prowl and rests an calming hand upon the ninja's back.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(addressing everyone)  
What happened? Why did the 'cons attack you?

PROWL  
(voice wavering in weakness)  
I believe they mistook Sari's energy signature for an All Spark fragment.

Professor Sumdac's panicked voice bursts through Sari's comm.

PROFESSOR SUMDAC  
What is happening out dere?! Sari, are you alright!?

SARI  
(into comm)  
It's okay, Dad. Everyone's fine…well, almost.

PROFESSOR SUMDAC  
But...what happened?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Bumblebee, take Sari to her father.

BUMBLEBEE  
(with a quick and formal salute)  
Yes sir!

He whips into vehicle mode and zips over to the girl, popping the driver's door open.

Sari releases her hold on Prowl's arm then slowly backs away, bestowing him with a beaming smile before she climbs into the little yellow car.

SARI  
(to Prowl)  
You were awesome!

The ninja reciprocates with a weary but appreciative smile.

Bumblebee slams his door and bounds off over the rough terrain of the simulated African plain.

BUMBLEBEE  
Next stop Sumdac Tower. I can't wait to tell your dad about Prowl's awesomeness.

The girl grasps for her seatbelt as she's jostled by the bumpy ride.

SARI  
Yeah, no kidding…but, let's leave out the bit about Megatron nearly crushing me. Dad is waaay better off not knowing that.

The hyper yellow car speeds off, blaring his painfully cheerful horn.

Optimus maintains his vigil at Prowl's side.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
You don't look so good. What happened here?

The ninja struggles to stand up, but his strength is completely sapped and he wobbles back down to a crouch.

After a self-loathing pause, the ninja replies in a near whisper.

PROWL  
I failed to protect her.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I find that hard to believe.

PROWL  
If you had not have shown up when you did, the evidence would be overwhelming.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
It wasn't your responsibility to keep her, or Bumblebee, from harm. If anything happened to any of you, it would be my fault.

Prowl grips his leader's shoulder and uses it to boost himself to his feet with a wrenching grunt.

Optimus rises and reaches his hands out to stabilize him but Prowl refuses his help and turns away, shaking his head with shame.

PROWL  
What an absolute disaster. I am nothing more than a liability.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Stop it, Prowl.

PROWL  
It's the truth…I no longer posses the disciplined skills of a true cyber ninja.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Again, I find that hard to believe. Judging by the young bots' reactions, you must have done something pretty amazing here.

Prowl stands still and silent for introspective moment.

PROWL  
I used to be capable of so much more.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Prowl, I can't begin to understand what you're going through, but I know enough to say this. (he approaches his troubled friend, gripping his shoulder firmly with reassurance) This is a battle of the processor...something you, of all bots, are more than capable of fighting.

The Prime's words spark a curiosity from the ninja. He looks over his shoulder, his gaze trailing up the comforting blue arm and meeting his leader's earnest optics.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
You will beat this. I have no doubt.

Prowl processes the words a moment, his expression clearly portraying the doubt he's unable to shake.

PROWL  
What makes you so sure?

Optimus responds with a small but sincere smile then fires up his jet pack.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I had a rather...unique conversation on your behalf a little earlier. (holding his arm out) C'mon. We'll take about it on the ride home.


	14. Loyalty

**DINOBOT ISLAND - DECEPTICON BASE**

The floor of the main room is littered with empty energon cubes. There's a thick trail of dirt leading from the new tunnel to a circle of four Decepticons sloppily seated on the floor. The focus of the four is an empty cube, spaced strategically centered among them, which offers them the apparently challenging task of bouncing a nut, bolt, or any other small object within reach into that centerpiece of simplistically endless entertainment.

Starscream's precious new toy sparks and hums as he fills up another round of cubes and distributes them generously to his fellow participants of debauchery.

STARSCREAM  
So I says-- I says to him…"Whas your escuse this time, Megatron!? You lethee emeny get away!"…and t'make a long story short, s'how I got this (barely manages to point to the back of his head)…scar, righ'here…can ya see, this'n right here.

SHOCKWAVE  
Sounds to me like you had it hic coming.

ICY BLITZWING  
He alvays has it coming.

Starscream snaps an accusatory but wavering finger at the triple-changer.

STARSCREAM  
As if you're a shining ecsample, Blisswing. What about th'time on Alpha Nine when we're aboutta ambush Rodimus' team and you compleely blew our cover.

SHOCKWAVE  
I remember that -hic- mission. We were -hic- perfectly stealth until that petrorabbit scampered out--

RANDOM BLITZWING  
(awakened by the alien term)  
Oooohhhh-hee-hee, I almost had zat little robobunny in my servos until zee Autobots attacked me!

Starscream raises a disapproving brow to Shockwave.

STARSCREAM  
You had to say it.

Shockwave drops his face into his claws.

ICY BLITZWING  
(now calm and nostalgic)  
I couldn't transform into my ground-vehicle mode for nearly a veek after Megatron finished wiz me.

SHOCKWAVE  
(shaking his head)  
I'm amazed you've lasted -hic- this long.

Chromia looks upon the three, overjoyed to be temporarily broken away from her dull existence and she basks in the tomfoolery with a heavy optics and a lazy grin. She tips a hefty gulp down her neck then pokes a flirty finger into Shockwave's leg.

CHROMIA  
What about you Shawgwave…whas th'wors punishment you taken from Megatron?

STARSCREAM  
(rolling his optics)  
Pff…

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
Zis'll be a yawner.

SHOCKWAVE  
I-- can't recall…

CHROMIA  
(prodding)  
C'mon, you can'be tha-stiff.

STARSCREAM  
Yes he can.

SHOCKWAVE  
I honestly can't remember ever -hic- receiving a severe punishment. My service to Megatron has been -hic- unfaultable. (he looks upon the interrogative femme with a questioning optic) You, however, raise many suspicions.

CHROMIA  
(innocently)  
How so?

SHOCKWAVE  
For starters, why did you join the Autobot aca-hic-demy after the Quintessons departed the arena scene? You could have joined the Decepti-hic- ranks back then, especially since we were pistons-deep in the Great War.

CHROMIA  
(shaking her head in protest)  
Ther're no 'cons in Kaon back then…you guys'r strewn 'cross the gal'xee on a chaotic course to nowhere n'particular.

SHOCKWAVE  
What about Swindle?

CHROMIA  
He bought a starship with all tha'was lef'of the 'rena profits a made off with a heffy supply o'Quin-weaponry t'sell t'he highess bidder, r'gardless of faction…

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
Typical!

CHROMIA  
…so I was leff with noth'n butta bunch of disor'drly drunkards.

Her words take a moment to sink in before the irony warrants a thoughtful pause and a few awkward glances from the group.

CHROMIA  
(continuing)  
The Autobots're winnin' th'war an'the Elee Guard's draftin' call spread far n'wide 'cross Cybertron…ope'nrollment fer all 'bots..naw jus vehicle-bots. So…for a lack-a-better-opshun, I went wi'them.

Starscream, with debatable concentration, successfully bounces a bolt into the center cube.

STARSCREAM  
HA! Drink up, Blitzy.

Hothead grumbles and tilts his cube into the gap-tooth mouth, losing himself to a neurotic jagged grin once tasting the unfathomably pure liquid, then promptly switching to Icy to give his two cents in the conversation.

ICY BLITZWING  
Zen you had no opinion on cause or creed, you just vent vis vichever faction had zee upper hand?

CHROMIA  
A'the time…well…ya.

STARSCREAM  
(fishing the area around him for another bolt)  
Then what n'spired you to b'tray the Autoboss? They're still the ones wi'the most power…(deviously smirks as he pats his invention) for the time being.

The femme is contented to finally receive a shred of civility from the seeker and she dreamily slides down to rest her head upon the gangly arm of Shockwave.

CHROMIA  
(romantically sighing)  
Mmmmegatron inspired me.

STARSCREAM  
(raises a brow)  
Interesting.

CHROMIA  
(daydreaming)  
T'say the least. His legacy carried on so vivi'ly in th'rena scene. I w'spen-hours watchin' his ol' gla'iator vids, n'during the academy, I w'slip away when I could t'watch the ol' war vids of'm. (sighs again) What power…

STARSCREAM  
Anyone else feel nauseous?

CHROMIA  
(continuing)  
M'spark jumped nearly outta m'chassis when wor'spread of his re'pearance. Affer so many boring stellar cycles a'service in, what I quiggly learn was a poin'less cause, I wan'd t'act irrationally…ditch the Elee Guard and fin'a passage t'Earth, but logi'circuits toll me t'lay low...wait for the prrfect opportune'ty to prove m'self to Megatron. An'then ther'he was…gif'wrapped and d'livered t'me…in stasis cuffs.

STARSCREAM  
(unimpressed)  
Such delusional loyalties.

Chromia pops her head up with offense and flicks a stray bolt at the seeker.

CHROMIA  
Whashur prollum, Starscream! Why d'you hate Megatron s'much!?

The accused seeker dodges the projectile with innocent surprise.

STARSCREAM  
Wha? I don--

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
Yeah, traitor! Vhy do you continually try to slag our leader!?

Starscream holds both hands up to his cockpit with innocent gesture and bestows his accusers with a sickeningly sincere expression.

STARSCREAM  
(protesting soberly)  
Have I done anything remotely harmful since you all got here?

SHOCKWAVE  
(matter-of-fact-like)  
It has only been a few solar cycles since our arrival.

STARSCREAM  
Yes, but in that time I have uncovered a means of limitless power for Megatron. Don't you think if I had sideways intentions, I wouldn't be sitting here with you lot, intoxicated off my ailerons?

The attention of the room shifts to the sliding sound of the side door as a black and purple predacon beholds the scene with a conflicting expression of disgust and dumbfounding.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What the spar-- (locks onto Chromia) What's she doing here?…(gestures to empty cubes) Why are you all wasting our-- Shockwave?! How could you let this…

The predacon cuts herself off with a slapping realization and refreshes her optics a couple times before continuing.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Starscream!…Di-- did you figure out the formula?

STARSCREAM  
(snapping with pride)  
Whassit look like…you wanna drink?

BLACKARACHINA  
(wide-eyed)  
Slag yeah I wanna drink!

The seeker starts scooping up meager traces of dirt then pauses his actions, unsatisfied with the limited resources around him.

STARSCREAM  
I have an idea. Let's take this up top…see if plant-based energon differs in taste from soil-based.

**DINOBOT ISLAND - SURFACE - NIGHT**

Starscream blasts a charred line into the ground directly in front of two tanks, who drastically differ in design to each other, as does their bug-like femme riders, and sit side by side with their engines rumbling.

The seeker jets up a short distance to position himself in respectful viewing distance of the events and raises his hands out in showman's fashion.

STARSCREAM  
Ladies, Gentlemen, Dinobots. (looks over his shoulder questionably toward the cricket chirping forest)…This is Dinobot Island, right?

BLACKARACHINA  
I'm pretty sure our ruckus has frightened them off.

STARSCREAM  
(shrugging carelessly and continuing his announcement)  
Please, bring your attention to me as I present to you a feast for your sensors. An event like nothing you've ever seen before…an evening of cataclysmic proportions boasting the grandest--

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
(shouting upward)  
Do zee countdown already!

Chromia pushes an antagonizing grin to Blackarachnia.

CHROMIA  
You're going down, Elita!

BLACKARACHNIA  
(equally reciprocating)  
Dream on, flutterbot…my ride's designed for earth terrain, not like your silly Cybertronian model.

SHOCKWAVE  
Excuse me?

STARSCREAM  
On my mark! Three-two-one…(pauses for effect) GOOOOOO!

The tanks grind out mechanically guttural growls as they slowly plow their tracks over the starting line, femmes slapping them with vicious cheering.

STARSCREAM  
Oh c'mon, this is pathetic! Where's the initial boost of acceleration? Don't you buffoons know how to race?

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
Can it, broken brain, and wait for us at zee ozer end!

STARSCREAM  
Broken br-- that's it! You and I are racing aerial-style next!

Starscream zips ahead toward the designated finish line then freezes mid-air as his audio receptors fill with the roar of familiar turbines above.

STARSCREAM  
Oh slag.

A stream of energon trails from the silver and black helicopter as its rotors sputter and jerk with uneven revolutions. The bulky and ever-watchful purple jet flies close behind.

LUGNUT  
Hang in there, Master. I can see the base from-- What the!!

Lugnut, aghast with fury, transforms and soars down to hover directly over the inexcusable sport playing out below. He's further enraged at the visage of discarded, empty energon cubes and wastes no time unleashing his disapproval.

LUGNUT  
Our leader is in dire need of what little energon we have and you reckless imbeciles are…

The monstrous mech barrels into the ground with a furious fist and a roar that Unicron himself might shudder at. The punch sends the four tipsy 'cons helplessly bounding off the ground, ripping riders from their tanks.

The tanks transform and the femmes holler as they each fall with a humble thud to the ground around the towering punisher.

Megatron wearily transforms and touches down at the edge of the crater, still leaking energon profusely from his gaping wound, but too enraged to care at the moment.

MEGATRON  
Shockwaaaaaave!

The guilty intelbot creaks up from his dent in the ground and quietly vocalizes to the winged femme beside him.

SHOCKWAVE  
(scared stiff)  
I believe we're about to experience first-hand the most severe retribution I'll ever receive from Megatron.

MEGATRON  
(building from a growl to raspy roar)  
I left you in charge and this is the outcome!?

Shockwave doesn't budge from the safe distance at the base of the crater, but Starscream sheepishly approaches his leader from behind and attempts a stuttering explanation.

The taxed tyrant simply snatches the glutton for punishment by the wing and lances him with a bone chilling glare.

STARSCREAM  
(pathetically)  
Ow-Ow, not the wing.

Starscream's pitiful expression drops to confused concern as he watches the gladiator's crimson optics dim to a dead burgundy and feels the powerful grip slide off his aching crinkled wing.

STARSCREAM  
Me-- Megatron?

The impressively broad silver chassis, stained with layers of its own energon, collapses onto the confounded seeker, who buckles at the sudden lifeless weight.

Lugnut beholds the scene with horror.

LUGNUT  
Master!!

STARSCREAM  
(straining to support the lumbering load)  
Little help, Lugnut!

Lugnut warps to his fallen mentor, carefully sliding the holy chassis into his unworthy claws then promptly back-handing a predictably apathetic seeker into the crater.

LUGNUT  
Don't worry Master, I will take you inside.

**DECEPTICON BASE - MAIN ROOM - ONE MEGA-CYCLE LATER**

The revived Decepticon leader occupies the chair at the computer console, leaning forward against his stained legs, and watching with contented exhaustion as his subordinates transmute cube after cube of rich brown earth into energon.

Starscream stands at his leader's side, diligently welding a freshly-cleaned gouge of severed wires on the humbled tyrant's neck.

MEGATRON  
Any organic substance will suffice?

STARSCREAM  
That's correct.

MEGATRON  
Must it originate from Earth?

STARSCREAM  
Nope. I was able to transmute Blackarachnia's webbing which we know is native to Archa Seven.

MEGATRON  
How much energon can a single shard produce?

STARSCREAM  
I haven't measured the deterioration rate of the shard in-use yet, but judging by the looks of it, I'd say each shard, taking into consideration their varying sizes, should be able to churn out…

The seeker pauses his welding to mumble some calculations and mathematical jargon.

Megatron glances up with anticipation.

STARSCREAM  
…a good, solid metric spark-ton of energon.

MEGATRON  
(forming a tiny, satisfied smirk)  
Hmm…excellent work, Starscream.

The pompous seeker manages a genuine smile as he resumes his role of medibot.

Megatron, forming an expression of scheming, averts his attention to the newest member of his motley crew.

MEGATRON  
Autobot!

Chromia freezes in wide-eyed attentiveness.

MEGATRON  
Come here.

Without hesitation, the doting femme expands her wings and soars up to the platform. She nervously taps down with a straightened posture directly in front of her muse, who's height still rises above hers, despite his seated position.

Before she can fully retract her wings, Megatron snatches each of them at the bottoms and stretches them out to by studied with curiosity.

The slightly stinging pinch of his servos on her delicate appendages is unmatched in sensation to the exhilaration of his touch and she desperately tries to suppress her thrill with squeaky ventilations.

MEGATRON  
I understand you have processor-altering abilities?

CHROMIA  
(breathy)  
Yes sir.

MEGATRON  
Good…I have an assignment for you.

CHROMIA  
I will oblige with utmost honor my liege.

Starscream roles his optics at her pathetic groveling.

MEGATRON  
When you meet with the Autobots here on Earth, I want you to 'interact' with the ninja before traveling back to Cyberton.

CHROMIA  
(already knowing the answer)  
Interact, sir?

MEGATRON  
(sinister)  
Yeeesss….distort his neural processes.

STARSCREAM  
(slightly confused)  
Didn't we already do that?

MEGATRON  
(voice raised slightly with agitation)  
He's learned to override his human influence with…(scowling) Processor over Matter. I underestimated the powers a trained cyber ninja is capable of. (voicing calming down) Tell me, Autob-- Chromia, are you capable of breaching such spiritual barriers?

CHROMIA  
(pondering)  
Processor over Matter…that's uh…that's no joke.

MEGATRON  
(irritated again)  
Then you are unable to assist in this matter?

CHROMIA  
(back peddling)  
No! Absolutely not, I mean, yes!…I can assist.

MEGATRON  
I simply require that he remain unstable enough to keep the Autobots distracted. Is that too much to ask of you?

CHROMIA  
(confident)  
Not at all. He has a defiant spark by nature so if I focus on unearthing that aspect of his personality--

MEGATRON  
Whatever, just get it done. (changing gears) Do you have any information to report regarding the Elite Guard's intentions toward recapturing us?

CHROMIA  
Sentinel Magnus and Optimus Prime are in the early stages of planning an Elite Guard intervention here on Earth.

MEGATRON  
Any idea as to when?

CHROMIA  
Um…I haven't gathered enough information to make such a prediction yet.

Megatron glowers at the inadequate response and pulls the femme by her petite neck into his threatening glare. He's minutely distracted by her suddenly subdued level of fear and warm rush from her chassis dancing past his gripping servos, but dismissively files the observation away as unimportant.

MEGATRON  
Then I suggest you attend to your assignment and return to Cybertron as quickly as possible.

The strangely relaxed femme basks in the intimate proximity before the glorified hand releases its grip. She takes a few unstable steps backward, catching herself before nearly tripping off the edge of the platform, then meeting the penetrating red optics again with a regretfully silly smirk.

CHROMIA  
Yes sir, I will depart at once.

She expands her wings once more and flutters down toward the tunnel, turning to gesture a farewell nod to Shockwave, then fully transforming and disappearing down the passageway.

Starscream watches her exit then resumes focus on his leader's wound, shaking his head questioningly.

STARSCREAM  
(accusing)  
Why do you do that?

Megatron responds with an uninterested growl.

STARSCREAM  
Why is it, the instant anyone gives you a unsatisfying answer, regardless of whether they're capable of supplying your informational needs, do you assume bully-mode, grabbing and pulling and threatening…

Without fail, Starscream's prodding has, once again, aroused annoyance from his leader, who reaches up and snatches the antagonist by the neck, forcing him down to optic level. The unfinished patch-job on Megatron's wound cracks under the sudden strain, squirting energon into Starscream's face and cutting the tyrant's intended chastisement off with a jabbing pain.

Both mechs grumble a duet of irritation and Megatron releases his hold from its familiar berth on the seeker's neck.

STARSCREAM  
(wiping liquid from his pinched face)  
Take it easy! Your welding hasn't fully hardened yet. (huffing as he attends to fixing the split wiring) Who did this to you? Was it the ninja? Is that why you've sentenced him to a severe processor-fragging?

MEGATRON  
(bitterly)  
Optimus Prime.

STARSCREAM  
Oh-- well, better him then one of his flunkies.

MEGATRON  
That pathetic excuse for a hero has interfered for the last--

STARSCREAM  
(interrupting)  
Don't start with the vengeful rhetoric, you'll raise your energon pressure and undo everything I just did here.

Megatron's taken off-guard by the seeker's questionable expression of concern and diverts his irritation from the stinging memory of the Autobot leader's assault back onto his incessantly unpredictable air commander.

MEGATRON  
Since when do you find anything but amusement from my misfortunes? You've no doubt planted a bomb in my neck and intend to make off with the energon converter to use for your own failure-fated scheming.

STARSCREAM  
(with a playful smirk)  
Tempted…at the very least, but unfortunately, at this moment in time, I lack the necessary nanotechnology for an explosive of that caliber.

Megatron sighs with a relenting grumble.

MEGATRON  
You are…an enigma.

STARSCREAM  
Flattery, my liege? Wh--

MEGATRON  
(abruptly)  
It's not flattery, you…(unable to formulate a proper insult). Has that human influence on your processor truly inhibited your mutinous ambitions?

STARSCREAM  
(passive)  
Perhaps.

MEGATRON  
(frustrated)  
Don't play coy with me. The Starscream I know wouldn't remotely consider sharing a discovery of this magnitude, especially not with me. Do you not fully grasp the significance of your invention?

STARSCREAM  
(still calm)  
No, I'm quite aware of its potential.

MEGATRON  
(demanding)  
Then why are you still here?

STARSCREAM  
Ah, Ah-- Watch the temper. (shifting uncomfortably) You…already know the answer to that question. You said it yourself…it's the human influence. (prattling on) He was a rather sickeningly moral man, an esteemed college professor no less, who highly valued the importance of teaching his students…(hesitates with uncertainly)

MEGATRON  
(simmering down)  
Teaching them what?

STARSCREAM  
(meekly)  
Teamwork.

MEGATRON  
(slightly nauseous)  
Hrrnnng…must it always resort to that?

STARSCREAM  
Inevitably, yes.

Megatron pauses a moment, welcoming a scheming yet far-fetched idea into his processor.

MEGATRON  
Then you would be willing to teach me the energon conversion formula?

Starscream bursts with a hearty laughter that catches the temporary attention of the 'cons across the room.

STARSCREAM  
Even if your limited processor could grasp the concept, I'm not THAT far gone.

Megatron scowls at the mockery he just invited.

STARSCREAM  
Do you honestly think I'd so willingly relinquish my only bargaining chip?

MEGATRON  
I suspected not, but you cannot fault me for trying.

Starscream accepts the logic with a shrug.

MEGATRON  
Which brings me to my original question, Starscream…

The comment and vocalization of his name sends the seeker back to his uneasy state.

MEGATRON  
Why are you still here?

With a closing click of his patient's neck panel, Starscream finishes his task and tries to ignore the burdening question hanging overhead like a swollen rain cloud.

STARSCREAM  
(nervous)  
Okay, stand up…test out your stabilizers. That leg wound is superficial so there shouldn't be--

MEGATRON  
(insistent)  
Answer me, Starscream!

Megatron rises up casting an intimidating shadow over the cornered seeker.

STARSCREAM  
(relenting with cowardice)  
Because I…at this particular moment in time, given our circumstances in combination with your current plan to return us home…have gained a minimal level of…and quite possibly debatable…(mumbles in quiet retreat) respect…for you.

For a brief, time-suspended moment, the Decepticon leader allows a sincere smile to creep across his face, intended exclusively for his admittedly-tamed shrew-of-a-soldier, then turns slowly away to marvel at the quickly-multiplying supply of energon cubes. He steps down from the platform, his every movement gliding with satisfied dignity, which further jostl's the seeker's wounded pride.

Starscream is left to fidget discouragingly at yet another processor-tweaking and painfully enlightening encounter with the mech he can no longer, to his utter frustration, label as "Arch-Nemesis."


	15. Old Friends

A/N: All I can say is, omg two back-to-back, touchy-feely, fangirly scenes!

* * *

BLACKARACHNIA'S ROOM / STARSCREAM'S LABORATORY

Starscream sits hunched on his makeshift stool, fussing and wincing as Blackarachnia hammers out the crinkled handprint of their leader from his wing.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Would it kill you to hold still?

STARSCREAM  
Well stop pounding so hard! One would think you'd be a professional at this by now.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Cut me some slack, it's been a while. Besides, I'm tired…been a long night.

STARSCREAM  
(agreeable)  
No argument there…(he relaxes his posture as she eases up on the hammering) Where'd you disappear to earlier?

His question takes her off guard and she pauses in guilty hesitation. Her encounter with the Autobot leader had been gnawing away at her processor all night, but she wasn't sure what the seeker would think of her behavior. Too exhausted to think too deeply on the matter, she sighs in concession to the fact that if anyone could relate to breaking protocol for personal needs, it was him.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Can you keep a secret?

STARSCREAM  
(pauses with a little self-loathing)  
Probably not.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I met with…Optimus Prime.

The seeker's optics brighten in disapproval.

STARSCREAM  
Why the spark would you do something like that?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(defensive)  
It was his idea. (she carelessly pounds out the last crinkle, invoking a whimper from her patient, then tosses the hammer down)…He wanted to know more about Prowl's condition.

STARSCREAM  
What did you tell him?

She kneels down to pick up a sham and a container of wax. Her reply bursts out before she can even stop to question the repercussions of it.

BLACKARACHNIA  
The truth.

The jet twists around to clearly display his discontent for her answer.

STARSCREAM  
Who's side are you on? You realize your little stunt may have cost Megatron the upper hand today?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Don't start…(she forces him to face forward again then layers the sham up with wax) I don't care what Megatron says. He had it coming. We had no right to do that to Prowl.

Starscream feels the cloth glide along the back of the his wing, working in a soothing, circular motion. It's been eons since he received a proper waxing, and being in no mood to look a gift horse in the mouth, he inevitably surrenders his frustration at the femme.

STARSCREAM  
Hmm…well you better explain that to our double-agent, because she's been sent to "deal with" your beloved little ninja.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(shocked)  
What?

To Starscream's disappointment, the sham's motion abruptly stops.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(near whisper)  
I should warn Optimus.

STARSCREAM  
(protesting)  
You should do no such thing!

He gestures to her to continue the waxing.

STARSCREAM  
Let it go, Blackarachnia…(nearly purring once she resumes her task) Besides, I doubt she'll be able to breech his Processor over Matter…Come to think of it, that silly cyber ninja practice might actually do ME some good.

The predacon doesn't have the means to process anymore guilt toward the Prowl situation at the moment, and forces herself to accept his reassuring logic on the matter. However, his last bit concerning his own condition warrants a whole new set of worry from her. She assumed he was in control of his human influence, but taking into consideration their previous conversation, plus his uncharacteristic loyalty to Megatron, she realizes her assumption was incorrect.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Are you…mad at me?

STARSCREAM  
For what?

BLACKARACHNIA  
What I did to you…saddling you with human emotion. You must think I'm such a hypocrite the way I carry on about Prowl.

Her sudden display of concern nearly blind-sights him, but as always, he's quick to regain his vain composure.

STARSCREAM  
I just made the most pivotal discovery in all of Decepticon history thanks to you. A few unsavory emotions are a small price to pay for such unsurpassed genius.

She cracks a smile and is again reassured by his optimistic logic.

BLACKARCHNIA  
I see your ego's still intact...Has Megatron decided yet when we're going to leave?

STARSCREAM  
Very soon. He's already hired that seedy bounty hunter to give us a lift to Cybertron.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Lockdown?…Lockdown agreed to taxi us. He must be hard up for work.

STARSCREAM  
His asking was price was steep (slips a devious smile) but we can afford it.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Did Megatron tell him about the converter?

STARSCREAM  
Of course not! Megatron's no fool.

The sham stops moving again as the predacon snickers to herself.

STARSCREAM  
What!?

BLACKARACHNIA  
You actually just said that…out loud.

STARSCREAM  
Shut up!

She moves out from behind him and positions herself alongside his body in order to get at the front of his wing. She reapplies some more wax on the sham and resumes her task, starting with an inappropriately dulled Decepticon symbol.

The purple badge comes to life, brighter and brighter with each pass of the sham. Her contented smile slowly drops at the symbolism staring her in the face. Her processor starts juggling a mix of emotions, such as pride and comfort from acceptance, then ultimately…confusion.

Starscream can't help but notice her change in mood. If the waxing didn't feel so good, he would probably be extremely uncomfortable in this situation. He also can't deny the significant role this wayward femme has played in current existence. Regardless of her selfish intentions, she recognized the value of his time-lost engineering mastery, something all the other 'con discarded since his promotion to second-in-command so long ago. The least he could do in the moment was attempt some friendly conversation.

STARSCREAM  
So…how was your…meeting?

Once again, the waxing stops.

She drifts into spark-sinking silence then drops down to a defeated slump on the floor next to his legs.

STARSCREAM  
(optic brown raised)  
That good, huh?

She remains speechless and distant for a moment. He looks upon her with a loss of words. Sarcasm wasn't going to cut it here. He leans over the lightly pulls the sham from her hand, grimacing shamefully at the residue it apparently picked up from his illustrious wings, but quickly stowing his vanity as he refocuses on the femme and takes stab at sympathy.

STARSCREAM  
Come on now…spit it out. It'll only eat away at your spark if you keep it pent up.

He's pleased to see her slightly relax at his offering of wisdom, then instantly tenses his own body when the she lightly leans into his leg and rests her helm upon his knee.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I should hate him…I want to hate him…it'd be so much easier.

Not in all their experiences together has the seeker witnessed her so fragile. It almost angers him that this normally shrewd and feisty femme has reduced herself to a pathetic heap at his feet, and over what. An Autobot?

BLACKARACHNIA  
He said he'd help me find a cure…that I'd be a fool to trust you to do it.

STARSCREAM  
(offended)  
Optimus Prime dare cast judgment on MY intentions? That bigoted fool needs to work out his own issues before offering to aid with another's.

Again, more logical reassurance. She could've predicted that response but it felt good to hear it out loud. She brings her hand up face-level and starts introspectively tracing plating seams on his leg.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I can't even remember what it feels like to be all 'bot.

The seeker, still ruffled by thoughts of the Autobot leader, is unable to empathize with the femme. He instead calls on his alien passion for all that is organic and focuses his attention to one of the stingers protruding from her back. He raises a curious hand and lightly grasps the arachnid weapon, rolling it between his fingertips and studying it with fascination.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(taking note of his action)  
Do you really think my cure will be a downgrade?

The question surprisingly stings him with regret.

STARSCREAM  
That's not my call to make.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(lifting her head up)  
What?…But earlier you said--

STARSCREAM  
I know what I said, but I was taking the viewpoint of what's good for the Decepticon cause…which clearly isn't your priority.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(unsure)  
That's…not necessarily true.

STARSCREAM  
Really? (ventures into interrogation as he continues to study her stinger) If I were to cure you tomorrow, what would stop you from reuniting with your precious Optimus Prime and scampering off to live happily ever after.

The predacon shakes her head in denial and shifts her gaze back down.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(bitterly)  
Sentinel will try me for treason regardless of my form. There's no happily ever after for me with the Autobots.

STARSCREAM  
Hypothetically, lets say there was…is that what you ideally want?

Her brow furrows at the suggestion and she slightly shakes her head before laying it back upon his knee.

STARSCREAM  
You don't even know what you want!

The seeker immediately regrets his sharp accusation. Primus knows he had no right to chastise her for her confusion. Even though he never questioned his factional allegiance, he could certainly relate to her anxiety of separating from ones peers.

His fingers cease their curious fidgeting on her stinger and gradually assume a slow and comforting petting.

She accepts his empathy with a sigh, not bothering to care that for the second time this evening, she's let herself to succumb to the warmth of another's touch. She sinks further into his leg, dimming her optics. This is the last 'bot she ever thought she'd bare her affliction to, but she learned long ago, for the sake of her own sanity, not to question the cruel and unusual kicks fate got from her.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(somber whisper)  
You're right, Starscream…I don't…not anymore.

**AUTOBOT BASE - PROWL'S ROOM**

Chromia lounges as the base of the tree, leaning her back against the arc of a protruding root, legs curled underneath her body. Her restless fingers tease the angular golden decal attached to a sleek black helm resting in her lap as she stares questionably at a poster of a dangling puppy captioned with an inspirational cliché.

Prowl lay with hands folded across his chest, basking in the careless aura created from this nostalgic intimacy.

PROWL  
How do you do it?

She lazily looks down upon her old flame with and raises a questioning optic brow.

PROWL  
Don't give me that look. You know what I'm talking about.

She smiles slyly and returns her gaze back up at the silly poster, tilting her head in disapproval.

CHROMIA  
What the spark is the point of that?

Prowl peeks up just enough to peer at the item on trial, then resettles back upon her lap.

PROWL  
Its simplicity is humbling.

CHROMIA  
(rolling her optics)  
Pfff..

PROWL  
I wouldn't expect you to understand such an attribute.

CHROMIA  
Oh I understand humility, but it's beyond me why you'd invite it.

PROWL  
Then you don't truly comprehend its significance.

She meets his optics again with a skeptical smirk.

CHROMIA  
(shaking her head)  
Holy slagging Pit of Primus, you've really changed over the cycles.

He challenges her smirk with a genuine smile.

PROWL  
And your language still puts space pirates to shame.

She acceptingly shrugs at his comment, then washes over in a realization and begins tapping inquisitive fingers against his forehead.

CHROMIA  
What's the deal with you anyway? Shouldn't you be plotting your next human massacre?

With lightening quickness, he snatches the hand hosting her antagonizing fingers before she even comprehends the annoying effect of her actions, causing her optics to illuminate with intrigue.

PROWL  
One would think, but strangely, my imposter hasn't reared his ugly head since the zoo incident.

CHROMIA  
(disappointed)  
Pity.

He rises to his knees with a smooth twist of his body, keeping a firm grip on her hand so her palm now faces upward.

PROWL  
Your sympathy for my condition is flattering. Did the academy fail to teach you any ethics?

He works her captured hand with both of his, uncurling each finger from her palm, one at a time.

CHROMIA  
Don't you remember? We used to ditch that class to join the protests for the liberating the petrorabbits from science labs. Now, what in the All Spark are you doing to my hand?

With her fingers splayed, he begins persuasively massaging her palm with his thumbs.

PROWL  
I'm curious if you still have that magic touch.

She glances down at her patronized hand and ponders his inquiry with skepticism..

PROWL  
(raising on optic brow)  
How about it? You up for a little spark reading?

CHROMIA  
Oooh I see…(shoots him an accusing glance) now that your processor has gone to pit do you respect my, what'd you call it, 'silly supernatural nonsense'.

PROWL  
I find it best to keep an open processor in light of its current condition.

With optics expectantly locked on hers, the ninjabot eases his hands to her lap, slowly sliding down her thighs and greeting her knees with a firm squeeze.

She always admired the liberties Prowl could take with his hands and was pleased to see that death itself coupled with bizarre resurrection couldn't strip him of such irresistible subtleties.

CHROMIA  
(shrugging a "why not" gesture)  
Okay, but I warn you, I'm a bit rusty. Autobot Intelligence doesn't honor Spark Reading as a valid technique of diplomacy.

PROWL  
(slipping a chuckle)  
Hmmm, I don't suppose the sensuality of this procedure factors into the equation.

CHROMIA  
(erotically squinting at him)  
Oooo…I love it when you talk mathematics.

The ninja retorts with a lighthearted sneer.

The femme's seductive expression lingers as she glides her fingers around the seams of his chest plate. With a gentle click she slowly opens the panel to reveal his spark chamber which instantly casts a majestic glow around them.

CHROMIA  
(optics widening)  
You ready for this?

PROWL  
(inhaling)  
Do your worst.

She flexes her fingers a couple times then dims her optics once making contact with the edges of his spark chamber. She delicately traces the outside of the hallowed chasm, enthralled to be practicing the art of her juvenile cycles.

Prowl watches intently as her varying facial expressions tell a cryptic story.

CHROMIA  
(optics fluttering)  
You should really cut back on the Circuit-su…I can't seem to find the devious little scrapper who originally caught my optic.

PROWL  
(stern)  
I will do no such thing. Circuit-su is second best experience of my functionality.

CHROMIA  
(inquiring with hope)  
And the first?

PROWL  
Joining a space bridge maintenance crew.

CHROMIA  
(disappointed)  
Ah come on, don't I at least score in the top five?

The ninja relaxes his shoulders and dims the glow of his optic visor, allowing a light moan to relay the arousing effect of her touch and responds by tracing patterns on her knees with his thumbs.

PROWL  
Perhaps…You never answered my question.

His liquid vocals are mercilessly distracting but she continues to navigate his life force, straining to focus on the random impulses greeting her fingers with eagerness.

CHROMIA  
What question?

PROWL  
How do you do it?

CHROMIA  
How do I do what?

PROWL  
How do you completely remove me from whatever reality we meet in? It feels as though a single cycle hasn't passed since our academy days.

CHROMIA  
I'm just that good.

PROWL  
Or a succubus.

CHROMIA  
Shhh, I need to focus

She continues to journey through his being, tilting her head with each stimulating tidbit encountered. His random surges cause her to slip a giggle here and an introspective hum there.

Prowl's optics illuminate at her nonsensical vocals and he looks upon her array of flighty expressions with curious desire.

Her mission is to call upon this proclaimed alter-ego buried within her old acquaintance, and where this may have sounded like an easy task, the more she explores his spark, the more she realizes there's no one in the room but her and Prowl.

Time to improvise.

She rolls her head back a quarter-turn, quivering with an obvious change of reaction.

PROWL  
What is it?

She snaps her head upright, drops her dopey smile, then yanks her hands from his chest as if they were being nipped at.

Prowl looks over her face with impatient expectation and leans his weight into her knees as if to push the words from her mouth.

PROWL  
What's the matter?

He tries to analyze her expression as it showers him with revelation and a breeze of amusement, and his curiosity is now on the brink of breaking character beyond his comfort level.

PROWL  
Well!?? What!!?

CHROMIA  
Holy spark-sucking Primus, that's some seriously glitched-up madness you're rollin' there.

Prowl leans in and tightly grips his hands around her legs, prepping to explode with interrogative questioning, but his thoughts are interrupted by the creaking of the door.

Chromia and Prowl casually turn their glances to see an embarrassed medibot frozen in the doorway.

RATCHET  
I'll just…come back later.

The old bot grumbles something about door locks as he exits the scene.

PROWL  
(grimacing at the events)  
Fantastic. If he mentions this to Bumblebee, I'll never here the end of it.

Shaking off the foreseeable drama, he intently returns his focus back on his reader.

PROWL  
Now, for the love of the All Spark, tell me what you felt.

She bestows the desperate ninja with a pompous grin as she gently closes his spark chamber and slides her hands up his shoulders, leaning in close enough to feel the anticipation in his ventilators.

With optics firmly locked upon hers, the ninja's hands glide unpretentiously up her legs, thumbs trailing behind to study every groove and detail of her form, sending surges throughout her chassis that that threaten her prided ability to keep the upper hand in situations like these.

After a deep inhale, she accepts the dual of seduction and leans in to hover her lips within millimeters of his audio receptors.

CHROMIA  
(flirting whisper)  
I'm not gonna tell ya.

Prowl straightens his posture and pulls back just enough to look down upon her with disapproval.

PROWL  
Don't toy with me.

CHROMIA  
(pulling herself close again)  
A little late for that.

PROWL  
(not budging)  
I'm serious.

CHROMIA  
(replaces her flirting smile with admonition)  
So am I.

She leans back and retreats her arms to cross in stubborn protest.

CHROMIA  
I'm not going to tell you what I felt because it would only invite your imposter to mess with you.

PROWL  
I disagree, the more I know about him the more I can control him.

CHROMIA  
(rises to her feet with protest)  
Then hire some single-credit gypsy who doesn't give a spark about your well being to tell you, because I refuse to.

Prowl follows her lead and stands up, but quickly closes the gap between them as his hands wrap around her waist and pull her up against him.

Her thoughts of refusal quickly diminish with an inevitable giggle as she feebly tries to push away.

PROWL  
(points up to branches of his tree)  
Did one of my little birds just whisper that I'm a gullible fool, because I could've sworn you just tried to pass yourself off as a caring individual.

She gazes at him in bemused perplexity.

PROWL  
(on the playful side of lecturing)  
You haven't changed a bit. Your spark still reeks of foul programming, even more so with the deceitful layers piled on over the cycles. I'm continually astonished by how such low quality character continues to earn high ranks in the Elite Guard.

CHROMIA  
(with a crooked smile)  
Your hypocrisy is almost too much to bear, academy dropout. You're lucky your imposter hasn't buddied-up with the skeletons in your closet. The noble Prowl would be nothing but a fond memory.

PROWL  
How do you know he hasn't.

CHROMIA  
(scheming)  
Because he'd probably rip my spark out for doing this.

She snakes her hands under his arms and slithers her fingers into the circuitry beneath his back panels, applying pressure in just the right spots to make his ventilators power up.

Prowl abruptly releases a helpless moan as her fingers creep down his back to a circuit whose existence was nearly forgotten to him.

PROWL  
(breathless)  
Don't…make me ask again.

CHROMIA  
(pauses in satisfaction)  
Alright, fine. You wanna know what's under your hood?

She abruptly fans out her wings which animate with their signature hypnotic patterns and snare the blind-sighted ninja into helpless awe.

CHROMIA  
(menacing)  
You are! There's no evil human to blame your faults on, there is only Prowl. Prowl the cunning. Prowl the deviant. Prowl the narcissist…Prowl the loner. You don't belong on a rag-tag team of wannabe heroes who don't even appreciate you. Look what happened! You sacrificed you spark for them and they couldn't even get you a spot in the Hall of Heroes.

PROWL  
(completely dazed)  
Is…Is that true?

CHROMIA  
Sadly, yes…Release yourself from their curse, Prowl. Cast aside your delusional dogma give into your true spark. Your imposter is a closer reflection of who you really are, not this cyber ninja façade you've fallen victim to.

The femme pauses as she hears footstep outside the door growing louder.

CHROMIA  
(resuming fiercely)  
Give into your lust for violence, Prowl…(lowers to a whisper) and attack me.

Without hesitation, the ninja flips her over, pinning her neck with his knee and reaching for his shuriken.

She cuts loose a scream of terror as she retracts her wings.

Prowl slowly comes to, but not enough to budge from his threatening stance and the door bursts open to reveal a horrified space bridge technician.

CHROMIA  
(desperately)  
Bulkhead, help me!

She scrambles out from under the perplexed ninja, as he rises to his feet in disbelief.

BULKHEAD  
(in heartbroken denial)  
Prowl…what's going on?

Prowl has regained his senses but can only behold the scene with a loss of words.

Chromia's now pathetically sprawled at Bulkhead's feet, grasping his leg like a storybook damsel in distress.

Optimus Prime and Ratchet burst into the room.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
What's happening here?

CHROMIA  
Everything was fine. We were reminiscing over old times, then he just snapped!

The Autobot leader advance on Prowl with skeptical concern.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Prowl, is this true?

Prowl turns away in bewildered and shameful defeat and leans into his tree.

Chromia's aided to her feet by Bulkhead then met with a stinging glare from the medibot.

RATCHET  
Looked like more than reminiscing, to me.

CHROMIA  
I shouldn't have come. It was…too much for him. Please Bulkhead, just take me to the space bridge.

Bulkhead looks to his leader who responds with an approving nod, then the lumbering mech escorts the femme from the crime scene and into the hallway.

They pass by Jazz who greets them with worry.

JAZZ  
Th'spark's goin' on?

BULKHEAD  
I think you should talk to Prowl, like ninja to ninja or something.

JAZZ  
Why? What happened!?

The large mech gestures to the door of Prowl's room then continues down the hall, coddling his quivering victim with care.

Jazz rushes onto the scene to behold a room full of crushed spirits.

JAZZ  
(near frantic)  
What just went down?

Prowl inches a shameful glance to the elite bot he once equaled, then once again turns his back to the room's occupants.

PROWL  
I wish to be left alone.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I don't think that's--

PROWL  
(viciously)  
Please!

A disheartened silence falls on the room and the Autobot leader backs away from his troubled friend.

JAZZ  
(respectfully)  
C'mon guys. Let's do as he says.

The three mechs leave the room with heavy hearts. As they slowly drift down the hallway, each one chewing over disturbed thoughts, Ratchet grumbles uneasily.

RATCHET  
Somethin's not right.


	16. Preparation

A/N: If you lived the life of a solitary bounty hunter, you'd talk to yourself too. Oh, and if the time measurements conflict in any way, take it up with TFwiki as that's where I get my info. ^_^

**OUTERSPACE - NOWHERE IN PARTICULAR - DEATH'S HEAD CRUISER**

The bridge echoes with the displeased murmur from an overtaxed engine, which throws in a few sputters here and there in hopes of reminding its owner of a much-needed tune-up. Such efforts are in vain as the coat-tailed bounty hunter learned long ago to tune out the monotonous soundtrack of his solitary existence. Lockdown preferred the sound of his own voice, be it nonsensical grumbles or a pleasantly melodic whistling of whatever song fancied him in the moment. His current play list consisted only of the time-old Decepticon anthem, stuck in his head since yesterday's comm call from Megatron.

He collects a couple upgrades from the unorganized shelves then ambles across the room to his throne at the control console. The whistling becomes intermittent as he mumbles the thoughts pressing hardest on his processor.

LOCKDOWN  
(flopping into the captain's chair)  
Can't believe I agreed to be fraggin' shuttle service.

He places the upgrades in his lap and his single hand starts tapping away at the keypads.

LOCKDOWN  
Least I'll be on Megatron's good side..if he has one.

A smooth, almost sultry feminine voice fills the room.

SHIP COMPUTER  
Now plotting course to planet earth. Estimated time of arrival, 1 orbital cycle, 23 nanoclicks and 56 astroseconds.

Lockdown leans back into his chair and props his feet on the console, slightly scooting and twisting until he settles contentedly into slouching comfort.

SHIP COMPUTER  
Hyperspace travel over time periods extending 1 orbital cycle may increase risk of processor malfunctions. It is highly recommended all passengers assume stasis mode for 50% percent of the travel time.

LOCKDOWN  
Ah darlin, there you go again…tryin' to get me into bed.

He begins fiddling with the buttons on the arm of his chair.

LOCKDOWN  
Now for a little entertainment.

The large monitor blips with some static before the beaming purple optics of Swindle fill the screen.

SWINDLE  
(cheerfully insincere)  
Lockdown, my favorite undecided, to what do I owe this pleasure? How's that cloaking device treatin' ya?

LOCKDOWN  
Peachy. What's the freq for the fights?

SWINDLE  
You're interested in the fights are you? Well, it just so happens I'm offering a premium package service that includes a top quality streaming live feed, plus on-call, remastered archive footage of wartime matches--

LOCKDOWN  
Cut the crap! Basic frequency…all I want.

SWINDLE  
You don't know what you're missing. Technology marches on my friend, you should really hop on the bandwagon.

LOCKDOWN  
(now frustrated)  
If it ain't lethal, I don't want it!

SWINDLE  
(relenting)  
Fair enough…Who am I to argue with a bot who knows what he wants. (patches the frequency through) There ya go, but don't be getting any ideas toward my prize fighter. He's protected under the truce between Iacon and Kaon.

LOCKDOWN  
(sinister smile)  
Ain' no bounty protected from me.

Lockdown minimizes Swindle's image to a quadrant of the screen then pulls up the arena's video feed. He squints curiously at the gangling organic form of Waspinator then crinkles his nose in repulsion.

LOCKDOWN  
Oh ya, that guy. Sentinel dropped his bounty to well below my standards since they captured the real spy, so you got no worries with me. 'Sides, he looks like a pain-in-the-aft.

SWINDLE  
A very profitable pain-in-the-aft. Now is there anything else you need? I'm a busy mech, got no time to chit chat, although I do understand how your job may get lonely. Perhaps I can interest you in a companion of sorts--

LOCKDOWN  
Got what I want. Talk at ya later.

He ends the call and starts tapping into his chair's buttons again.

LOCKDOWN  
Arena feed, check. Cybertronian news…

The newscast appears in the screen's quadrant where Swindle was.

LOCKDOWN  
Check. Optic candy (lower screen quadrant comes to life with trashy femme images)…check. And finally, the soundtrack.

The last quadrant fills with static as a familiar pompous voice of one acting magnus booms over the ship's ambient noises, and prattles on unaware to the invasion of his private comm line.

LOCKDOWN  
Nothing like a little highly classified information to pass the time.

He focuses down on one of the upgrades in his lap, turning it over until its Elite Guard symbol is facing up. His clawed hand picks at the gap in his tooth then lowers and starts scratching off the esteemed red face staring up at him.

SENTINEL  
…be sending Rodimus' team to aid in capturing the Decepticons.

LOCKDOWN  
(bursts with laughter)  
Guess you guys didn't get the memo.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
…on Dinobot Island.

LOCKDOWN  
Well, whadaya know…the big hero himself.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
…don't want another incident within the city.

LOCKDOWN  
(mood drops)  
What kind of incident would that be, Prime? 'Nother 'bot steppin' up again and filling your shoes as martyr?

SENTINEL  
…breech the island undetected?

LOCKDOWN  
Dammit…Now I'm in a bad mood.

SENTINEL  
You should send the ninjas to scout it.

LOCKDOWN  
Ya mean sorry replacements?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
…got the Dinobots monitoring. Their last report was an odd one. Said the 'cons were…having a party.

LOCKDOWN  
(nodding in approval)  
My kinda bots.

SENTINEL  
…you depend on those pee-brained cretins?

LOCKDOWN  
Takes one to know one.

SENTINEL  
…the latest report on Elita O-- I mean…the traitor?

LOCKDOWN  
Ouch.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Her name is Blackarachnia and…I believe she's…split off from the 'cons again.

LOCKDOWN  
Need t'work on yer bullshittin' there, Prime.

SENTINEL  
…figures. What about Prowl? How's he feeling?

The bounty hunter freezes as he grows nauseous with insult, then wastes no time venting his anger at deaf ears.

LOCKDOWN  
Same as you'd feel if you're offline!…Kinda glitched up question is that!? (lowering his voice) 'How's he feeling.' You're a real piece-a-work, Sentinel.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(barely audible)  
…very unstable. I thought he was beating it, but yesterday proved us wrong.

The upgrade rolls off his lap and clinks onto the floor.

LOCKDOWN  
(perplexed)  
Th'spark's he talkin' about?

SENTINEL  
(actually sympathetic)  
…am sorry to hear that. But if it's any consolation, attacking Chromia isn't too much of an unforgiving action…(bitterly) the femme can certainly push a 'bots buttons.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
It's not just that…he's been locked in his room since yesterday…won't talk to anyone, not even Jazz.

Lockdown remains frozen in a puzzled state.

SENTINEL  
I thought that was normal behavior for Prowl.

The pieces fall into place.

LOCKDOWN  
Kid's alive?

Lockdown drops his feet to the floor and leans forward into the console as if being closer to the screen will pull more details from the Autobot's conversation.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
…don't know what normal behavior is anymore for Prowl.

Lockdown mutes the call and urgently taps a code into the console. Static washes over the femme pin-ups but the room lingers in silence.

LOCKDOWN  
…Prowl?

No response.

Lockdown nearly questions his own sanity when he's met with nothing but silence. He's about to close the frequency when a smooth, disapproving voice emerges.

PROWL  
What do you want, Lockdown?

LOCKDOWN  
(disbelieving but desperate)  
Wanna know if I'm talkin' to a ghost?

PROWL  
(hesitates a long moment, then replies morbidly)  
That's one way of putting it.

The line goes dead.

LOCKDOWN.  
Kid?…You still there? (slams his hook down) Damn, stuck up little…

He falls back into an angry slouch, grinding his hook into the arm rest. It takes only a few moments for the gritty bounty hunter to regain his careless composure and his tattooed face widens with a crooked smile.

LOCKDOWN  
Shoulda known death was too conventional for the kid.

**EARTH - AUTOBOT BASE- MAINROOM**

Sentinel Magnus' image beams pompously from the main computer as Optimus, Jazz and Ratchet focus intently on it.

SENTINEL  
Rodimus' team will be debriefed within the orbital cycle. We will deploy them via the Space Bridge tomorrow at 1900 hours your time. Is that enough time to prepare?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Yes, Sentinel…Magnus. We will anticipate their arrival.

SENTINEL  
They're the best 'bots for the job so I expect nothing less than success.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
And that is what you'll receive. Prime out.

The Autobot leader closes the call with a sigh and turns to look upon Ratchet and Jazz with uncertainty.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
We ready for this?

Ratchet is next to his leader, leaning against the console with arms crossed and resting upon his thick midsection.

RATCHET  
Ready as we can be, sir. Even if the 'cons do expect our attack, we'll have them too outnumbered for it to make a difference…(lowers his voice). Even if we are short one soldier.

Optimus accepts the medibot's reassurance with a glance then slides a solemn look to Jazz.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Why don't you go check on Prowl.

JAZZ  
(without question)  
Sure thing, boss.

The elite bot glides away toward the hallway, giving the impression of cool as always, regardless of whether he was actually feeling it.

Optimus stares into the floor, chewing over some troubling thoughts, then meets the questioning stare of his medibot.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Tell me again what you saw Chromia doing to Prowl?

RATCHET  
(disapproving)  
Spark reading. Silly metaphysical nonsense. Somethin' the draft dodgin' peacenicks use to do for kinky fun…Quite inappropriate behavior for an Elite Guard diplomat of her ranking.

Optimus folds his hands across his chest, then slowly starts to pace in frustration.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
It doesn't make sense, Ratchet. Prowl was fine during the trip back from the zoo. Despite his weakened condition, he seemed to be…all there. We talked at length about his imposter and he didn't flinch once.

He meets Ratchet's optics again with stern confusion.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I don't understand why a…friendly encounter with someone completely unrelated to the human would all of a sudden trigger him?

Ratchet can only reply with a shake of the head and a clueless shrug.

**AUTOBOT BASE - HALLWAY**

Jazz slowly approaches the door to Prowl's room and respectfully raps upon it. He waits a moment before sliding his hand to the knob and leaning in to talk softly.

JAZZ  
Hey man…I'm coming in, with or without your permission…but I prefer an invite.

He's met with silence again and vents a sigh of disappointment.

JAZZ  
C'mon bro…

He opens the door with hesitation then immediately gasps at the emptiness of the room. There's a note impaled into the tree by a katana and he rushes to it, fear welling inside his spark. He removes the sword with a yank and slides the note off the blade.

As his optics pass over each word, his processors is stabbed with a growing reality that no amount of wishful thinking can deny. The katana slips from his hands and falls to the floor with a unremorseful clank. The crushed elite bot lifts his hand to the tree and run his fingers over the sap soaked stab wound, soaking in the symbolism with flinching grief.

**AUTOBOT BASE - MAINROOM**

Bulkhead, Bumblebee and Sari just arrived and wasted no time filling the room with their youthful ever-optimistic presence.

BULKHEAD  
(addressing his leader)  
The space bridge is in tip top shape, sir. We could even transwarp Omega Supreme if we wanted to.

The suggestion stings Ratchet with irritation.

RATCHET  
We're not subjecting that 'bot to anymore battles if we don't have to!

BUMBLEBEE  
Calm down, Ratchet, he was only saying--

Jazz commands the room's attention when he solemnly enters, note in hand. Everyone can instantly see by the look on his face that all is not well.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Jazz…What's wrong!?

The elite bot approaches his team, spark wrenching even more as he looks over the questioning expressions on the younger bots' faces. He regretfully holds the note up and lowers his head.

JAZZ  
He split.

The room hangs in silence as Jazz shifts the note down into his line of sight.

JAZZ  
(reads with hesitation)  
I've done all I can for this team. It's time for me to move on…Do not contact me. Do not attempt to find me…I prefer that you remember me as the cyber ninja who fought alongside you…not as what I've become…Sincerely, Prowl.

SARI  
(protesting in denial)  
But he still IS that cyber ninja. Bee and I saw it with our own optics!

BUMBLEBEE  
(angered)  
That note's a fake! The 'cons got him again, I bet my chassis on it!

Jazz fights to suppress the young bot's optimism from giving him false hope and counters their protests with cold hard facts.

JAZZ  
This is his hand writing.

BUMBLEBEE  
(desperate)  
They forced him to write it!

Jazz shakes his head somberly and hands the note to Optimus Prime. He speaks quietly under the false assumption that if fewer audio receptors hear his words, they could be incorrect.

JAZZ  
This is Prowl's very sincere, and uncoerced hand writing.

The Autobot leader takes the note, almost afraid to look at the words then watches Jazz leave the room in defeat. He looks down at the note, wincing at its reality, then lifts his optics to meet the equally helpless stares from his broken-hearted team.

**DINOBOT ISLAND - THE FOLLOWING NIGHT**

The transparent, rippling patterns signature to a cloaked ship dance high above the island's jungle landscape. If the Death's Head cloaking device was functioning properly, there wouldn't be any evidence of its presence, but considering the dealer it was purchased from, things could be much worse. For instance, Lockdown's energy signature dampener could be malfunctioning resulting in the unwanted discovery of his earlier arrival by his future passengers. This was not the case, however, and unless any of the Decepticons happen to venture to this particular corner of the island and bother to stare analytically into the sky, the bounty hunter had a few solid hours to prepare before switching on the 'taxi in service' light.

At first glance, the forest below the stealth cruiser would seem unpopulated but when taking a closer look, one might be able to spot the sleek shadowy figure with a thin blue optic visor lurking in the stillness, beholding the animated displacement of the star-littered sky with an uncharacteristic desire.


	17. Moving On

**DECEPTICON BASE - MAIN ROOM**

The main room is filled with the air of deserved accomplishment. Megatron stands upon the computer platform with infectious pride that spills over onto his intelbot seated at the console, then continues to spread down to the main floor. Starscream stands, with arms casually crossed over his cockpit, and looks upon his leader with the acceptance that comes from suppressed admiration. Blackarachnia lingers a short distance off the seeker's side and lifts her optics from the silk-wrapped cyber ninja helm in her grasp to bestow the beaming gladiator with a half smile and yielding sigh.

Lugnut and Blitzwing just covered up the last bit of pink glow from the perfectly rectangular and blanketed stacks lined up next to the tunnel, then respectfully approach the base of the platform.

Megatron looks over each of his soldiers with pride, something he rarely does unless in a really, really good mood.

MEGATRON  
Fellow Decepticons, our descent into victory is upon us. Soon, our numbers will grow exponentially as the revived and grateful sentients of Kaon bow in honor to our charity. They will wear the Decepticon symbol with pride as we rebuild their hopes and their city. The disdain they harbor for the Autobots who, for centuries, turned a blind eye to them will be transformed into a well-oiled machine of revolution.

Megatron revels for a moment in his expertly delivered speech, soaking in the expressions of undeniable motivation from his audience, then turns his attention toward the ever-faithful Shockwave.

MEGATRON  
Shockwave, I require you locate an unpopulated sector or structure in Kaon where we can land the ship and inconspicuously unload our cargo.

SHOCKWAVE  
I've already downloaded recent satellite images of Kaon and pin-pointed multiple possibilities, my liege.

MEGATRON  
Excellent…Starscream. (he glides his gaze to the attuned seeker) Immediately proceeding our arrival, I want you and Blackarachnia to begin construction of a large-scale converter. I expect you will find adequate building materials in the various dilapidated factories of the city.

Starscream simply replies with an obliging nod.

MEGATRON  
(shifting attention to a stern blue face)  
Blitzwing, you will be responsible for purchasing a shuttle in which to transport routine collections of organic material from Archa Seven.

The triple changer is unable to mask an expression of doubt which Megatron instantly acknowledges with a questioning pinch of his brown.

MEGATRON  
Do you have a problem with this assignment?

Blitzwing tenses at the corner he's just backed himself into and tries desperately to avoid Lugnut's glare of fury. He cycles a couple ventilations in order to regain a partially cool composure then concedes to vocalize the justifiable protests pressing at his processor.

ICY BLITZWING  
I never sought I'd hear myself say zis, but vouldn't it be viser to remain on zis planet? It is far richer in organic material zan Archa Seven.

He winces in anticipation of verbal chastisement, but is instead acknowledged with an approving nod.

MEGATRON  
This is a wise observation, Blitzwing, but we are not protected from an Elite Guard invasion here. Kaon is the ideal location. Even if the Autobots do discover our presence there, we will be protected under their very own truce.

Blitzwing should quit while he's ahead but his logic isn't quick enough to keep up with his mouth.

ICY BLITZWING  
Vhat's to stop zem from breaking zeir own laws?

Again, a regretful wince from the triple changer which quickly fades due to the lack of hostile retaliation from the now snickering Decepticon leader.

MEGATRON  
Honor…outdated, ignorant and crippling honor…the fools.

Shockwave borders on respect for the triple changer's valid questioning and rises to the task of enlightening him with knowledge gained from personal experience.

SHOCKWAVE  
The Autobot Council is incapable of abrupt alterations to their system. In order to overturn the long-standing truce between the cities, they would undergo months of drudging deliberations. During that time we will be able to stockpile adequate means of defense, and I use the term adequate conservatively.

MEGATRON  
Precisely. Once they learn of our occupation in the city, they will no doubt assume we lack the means to raise a formidable army and will therefore launch a predictably insufficient and disorganized attack against us.

Now that Megatron's speech has shifted to open discussion, Starscream doesn't hesitate to add his thoughts to the mix.

STARSCREAM  
Do you…oh mighty leader, plan on using the arena again as a recruitment and training facility?

MEGATRON  
(maintaining his smile)  
Of course, but I intend to delegate such responsibility to the legendary, (gestures to Lugnut) Kaon Krusher.

Lugnut fights to keep his jaw from plummeting to the floor. He stands motionless, questioning if his mentor's words are merely wishful thoughts toying with his processor. Convinced otherwise by the mix of stares upon him by his peers, especially the approving gaze of his leader, Lugnut beams with exhilarated pride as he primes himself for an unstoppable gush of pontificating.

LUGNUT  
It would be my absolute honor, Lord Megatron, to raise for you the grandest of all armies.

STARSCREAM  
(rolling his optics)  
Here we go.

Blackarachnia elbows the seeker with a shush and focuses on Lugnut, smiling in appreciation at the contagious joy radiating off the hulking mech.

LUGNUT  
(continuing)  
I would rather extinguish my own spark before I let you down, oh wise leader. Let any mech who dare tread the path of treachery and defile the mighty name of Megatron, be melted into scrap metal and constructed into target dummies.

Shockwave's and Blitzwing's optics slide conspicuously toward Starscream who pales nervously with insult.

LUGNUT  
We will arise victorious under your masterful leadership and finally claim Cybertron for the glorious name of the Decepticons.

Megatron manages to puff himself up to an improbable bloat of pride of satisfaction.

MEGATRON  
Expertly delivered, my loyal subject. I almost couldn't have said it better myself.

**DINOBOT ISLAND - DEATH'S HEAD CRUISER - BRIDGE**

Lockdown stands hunched over the control console, grumbling a series of near-inaudible complaints as he plots a course to Cybertron.

LOCKDOWN  
First 'con that complains about the mess'll be hitchhiking.

From the shadowy corners of the bridge, a smooth voice shamelessly infiltrates the bounty hunter's assumed solitude.

PROWL  
So, you've allied yourself with the Decepticons.

Without a thought of hesitation, Lockdown whirls around and fires a net toward the unwelcome presence, an attack easily predicted by the ninja and even more easily dodged with a simple somersault.

Despite the pleasure of being reunited with a formidable foe, Lockdown instinctively transforms his upgraded hand into a raging chainsaw if for nothing more than the effect. An adrenaline-boosted smile spreads across his face as he locks blaring red optics upon the sleek crouched form.

LOCKDOWN  
Was wonderin' when you'd show up. How'd ya find me?

PROWL  
The smell.

LOCKDOWN  
(laughing heartily)  
Rude little punk.

The enthralled bounty hunter advances slowly on the ninja, who maintains his safe distance with graceful sidestepping. Lockdown eyeballs every inch of Prowl with near disbelieving optics. He furrows his brow once realizing that one very prominent upgrade is missing.

LOCKDOWN  
Happen to your master's helmet?

Prowl's hands are clenched artfully over his shuriken as he fixes his stare upon his opponent's every move.

PROWL  
Wouldn't you like to know. If I recall correctly, he was your master too.

Lockdown continues to advance and Prowl continues to keep his distance, forcing the two into a gaping waltz across the ship's bridge. Pacing halfway around the room's circumference is enough to bore the bounty hunter. He powers down his chainsaw and carelessly leans back against the operating berth positioned in the center of the room.

LOCKDOWN  
The hell's your story anyway? The ol' coot boot you outta the Well with orders to take me out?

Prowl is insulted by the mech's casual attitude.

PROWL  
I'd rather not talk about my master or my resurrection if it's all the same to you. (he follows suit out of spite and relaxes his defensive stance). I didn't come here to fight.

LOCKDOWN  
Then what the spark you doin' here?

PROWL  
I wish to discuss a business proposition.

Lockdown twists his tattooed face in silent disbelief. He didn't see that coming one bit, especially considering the sins he'd confessed to committing during their last encounter. He looks the ninja over with conflicting thoughts of hope and skepticism. The illogical part of him wants to interpret Prowl's words as a partnership, but that was a dangerous path to tread. The infuriating rejection that resulted from his initial proposal to the kid was not something he wanted to rehash.

LOCKDOWN  
Intriguing as that sounds, your timing is horrible. This ship's about to be filled with 'cons.

Lockdown ambles to the control console, managing with near success to convey an aloof state of being.

PROWL  
(interrogating)  
Why?

Prowl remains still but follows the bounty hunter's every cryptic move, once again insulted that the mech would regard him so casually.

LOCKDOWN  
Am transportin' em. (slightly shameful) Pay was too good to pass up.

PROWL  
Isn't that the story of your life. (He studies the mech a moment then shifts his tone from hostile to hopeful) So…you're not joining them?

LOCKDOWN  
Spark no!

PROWL  
Where are you taking them?

LOCKDOWN  
(looking over his shoulder with irritation)  
Ain't telling you that. My customers are entitled to their confidentiality, 'specially from do-goodin' little Autobots.

The accusation ruffles the ninja and he breaks his glare against the mech's back to uncomfortably flutter his optics and shift his glance around the room.

PROWL  
That is…not who I am…not anymore.

The kid's angst is enough to warrant Lockdown's full attention as he turns around and leans against the console. He watches with skepticism as the troubled ninja struggles to make eye contact then folds his mismatched arms across his chest.

LOCKDOWN  
Bullshit.

The ninja snaps his focus up, eager to defend against being called out unjustly.

PROWL  
It's the truth.

LOCKDOWN  
Why would I believe that?

Prowl pauses as the ultimate moment of truth is upon him. It didn't matter how much he practiced the line in his head, it didn't make it any easier on his pride to actually deliver it in person.

PROWL  
Because…I came here to…see if your offer still stands.

Lockdown battles an array of processes flooding his mind from joy to irony then finally, suspicion. He wasn't protoformed yesterday and wouldn't allow the devious little Autobot to rope him in at his weak point.

LOCKDOWN  
Nice try, kid, but I don't buy it. (he turns back around to the console and pretends to attend to some important key tapping) You're up to somethin'. There's no way you'd abandon your precious Prime. (glancing back over his shoulder with insult) What kind of fool you take me for?

PROWL  
(growing desperate)  
Listen to me Lockdown, I am no longer one of them.

Prowl grows frustrated that his first attempt failed and stifles the idea of elevating his desperation to the next level. He hopes closing the gap between the two will aid in conveying his point.

PROWL  
Everything I did for them…what I sacrificed, was apparently…unappreciated. (his spark sinks) They did not deem me worthy enough to be laid to rest as a hero and instead brought me back to this planet to be buried in dirt.

Lockdown stops his fondling of the keypads and mulls over the kid's uncharacteristically single-minded behavior. He feels a twinge of nausea at the baseless self-defeat that shouldn't be spewing from a 'bot originally deserving of his partnership.

LOCKDOWN  
(turning around)  
Somethin's off about you.

He looks over the kid with disappointment.

LOCKDOWN  
You'd better go.

Prowls closes the gap further, shamelessly, pitifully and completely abandoning any shred of dignity.

PROWL  
Lockdown please! I have no where else to go. At least take me off this planet.

The monitor blips with static then fills with the materializing image of Shockwave.

SHOCKWAVE  
Shockwave to Lockdown. Please report.

If the bounty hunter could ever be driven to pity, this would be the moment. Something was completely wrong about the kid and he couldn't bring himself to send him packing.

LOCKDOWN  
I gotta take this. (points to the corner of the room) Get outta viewing range.

He faces the monitor again and opens up his end of the call.

LOCKDOWN  
Shockwave.

SHOCKWAVE  
Report your location.

LOCKDOWN  
Closer than you think. Where you want me to park this gal?

SHOCKWAVE  
I will send you the coordinates. There is a clearing in the forest large enough to land your ship in. You will see a crude hole in the ground, do not land upon it, rather next to it.

LOCKDOWN  
Gotcha…don't land on hole.

SHOCKWAVE  
When can we anticipate your arrival?

LOCKDOWN  
Soon.

SHOCKWAVE  
Soon is not a number.

LOCKDOWN  
Shortly, then. Lockdown out.

The transmission cuts off in the middle of Shockwave's frustrated cursing.

Prowl emerges from the shadows but is immediately snatched by the neck and slammed into the shelves. He dangles, growling in protest as a pair of red optics bore into his face.

LOCKDOWN  
(viciously)  
How can I be certain you won't rat out my passengers?

PROWL  
(strained)  
I…told you…I am…no longer an…Autobot.

Lockdown continues the penetrating glare then eases the squirming ninja down to his feet and releases the hold on his neck.

LOCKDOWN  
You fer real, kid?

PROWL  
(rubbing his neck)  
Yes…(he meets Lockdown's glare with sincere desperation) What will it take to convince you?

Prowl flinches as Lockdown's hand glides past his head and into the shelf behind him. He's uncomfortable by the breaching of his comfort zone, even more so in the fact that Lockdown's expression is calm and unreadable. The modded hand retreats, now holding a device which is instantly shoved against the ninja's chest.

LOCKDOWN  
Use that. It'll mask your energy signal.

Prowl grabs the device with a fumbling hand and looks to the bounty hunter with question.

Lockdown tilts his head in a 'follow me' gesture and turns toward the doorway.

LOCKDOWN  
C'mon. You can stow away in the engine room.

The relieved yet surprised ninja follows the peculiar mech out of the bridge and down the hallway. He tries to interpret the nonsensical grumbles coming from his new ally, but the growing whir of engines from behind the door they're advancing on makes anything but a shout impossible to clearly decipher.

They stop at the door but Lockdown doesn't open it. He instead turns and looks down upon the pondering blue optic visor with the intent of more interrogation.

LOCKDOWN  
(shouting over engine noise)  
How is it you're not harboring a grudge 'gainst me for takin' out your master?

PROWL  
(matching his shout)  
I do not wish to discuss--

LOCKDOWN  
(interrupting)  
Look kid, if you're gonna go into business with me then you need to learn the ethics of communication. How'm I suppose to trust you if you don't clue me in (taps his hook against Prowl's forehead) to what's goin' on in that twisted processor of yours.

Prowl jerks away from the hook with irritation.

PROWL  
Because no one's past is without blemish, including my own. (takes a moment to regain his composure) Everyone is guilty of treachery in one way or another. Some choose the path of regret, others redemption, and the truly depraved simply wallow in apathy.

Lockdown can only respond with a single raised brow.

PROWL  
(continuing smugly)  
It is not my place to judge your quality of character, however, I am not without valid suspicion in regard to the path you chose.

LOCKDOWN  
The spark kinda religious poppycock you tossin' me?

PROWL  
If I am not mistaken, you suffer with regret from your treacherous actions against Master Yoketron.

Lockdown's optics brighten hotly but instead of smacking the kid with a retort, he jams his spiked shoulder into the door and bursts into the engine room. He grabs the large lever on the wall next the door and wrenches it down, immediately causing the deafening engine roar to descend its pitch into silence.

LOCKDOWN  
Need you quiet a klik, darlin'.

Prowl enters the engine room and is immediately engulfed by the bounty hunter's shadow.

LOCKDOWN  
(tapping his claw against Prowl's chest)  
You tryin' to pin me with a conscience?

PROWL  
(rising to the challenge)  
No, I'm simply unearthing it. It revealed itself plain as day during our last encounter when you were attempting to boast of your misdoings as a means of getting revenge on me for originally denying you.

This accusation does not sit well with the bounty hunter.

PROWL  
(continuing)  
…But your words gave you away. You clearly admitted how betraying your sensei was no easy task.

LOCKDOWN  
(shaking head in offense)  
You got some serious spark plugs, Prowl. If you processor wasn't already glitchin' so bad, I'd bust it wide open.

PROWL  
(pleased with himself)  
Are you going to deny my observations after having just lectured me on communication?

Lockdown is regretfully unable to argue against the logic. The kid made a valid point and somehow, the bounty hunter relents to accept it. However, in defense of his pride, he makes it his personal mission of the moment to glare disdainfully at the smirking ninja while slamming the lever back into its original position, and purposely avoiding the hanging question.

LOCKDOWN  
(assuming a power trip)  
Do not, under any circumstances, leave this room. Don't make any noise, don't draw attention to yourself. If you're stupid enough to get caught by the 'cons, I won't be able to protect you.

The bounty hunter's last sentence was drown out by the restored engine's roar, but Prowl clearly understood the severity of his situation. He simply nods in gratification then retreats to the quietest corner of his noisy sanctuary.

Lockdown leaves the room and stomps down half the length of the corridor before allowing the unlikely turn of events to split his oblong face with crooked but contented smile.


	18. Deception

A/N: Shorter chapter. Nothing to groundbreaking, but it pushes the story along and fills in some gaps of what's going on with the Elite Guard.

**CYBERTRON - IACON CITY- ELITE GUARD BARRACKS - CHROMIA'S PRIVATE QUARTERS**

The double-agent sits relaxed at her personal computer, legs crossed and one arm half-heartedly tapping the occasional command into the keypads. The familiar sing-song voice rambling in her private comm is commanding the majority of her attention.

SWINDLE  
…arena's where it's at now, dollface. Ditch those losers already and get on the bandwagon.

CHROMIA  
That doesn't quite fit with my agenda now, Swinny. I've taken on a…rather important assignment as of late.

SWINDLE  
Trust me, nothing is more important than this.

CHROMIA  
Ha! Trust you.

SWINDLE  
I'm serious this time. Kaon's where you want to be. Something big is about to happen and it isn't going to be pretty for those on the outside.

CHROMIA  
Then stop being so vague and fraggin' tell me what it is.

She jolts at the sudden thudding upon her door.

SWINDLE  
The Quints are--

CHROMIA  
I'll comm ya back.

Click.

SENTINEL  
It's me, Chromia.

She pops ups, brightening her optics and shifting into a role of perky innocence as she advances on the door and presses its open button.

CHROMIA  
(with fluttering optics)  
Well hello there, tall, shiny and--

The royal blue magnus bursts in as if on a critical mission, hardly making eye contact with the femme.

SENTINEL  
Stop.

She is taken back by his demeanor but not enough to quit the charade. She approaches his back and reaches out with concern

CHROMIA  
What's the matter?

He snaps around and slams her with a look of retribution.

SENTINEL  
Where do I begin? It's bad enough you left the planet without permission, but…spark reading? (saying the term out loud further raises his anger) What the frag, Chromia?! What's gotten into you?

She knew this confrontation was inevitable but it didn't make it any less annoying. She decides to play the pity card with a twinge of groveling.

CHROMIA  
He was an old friend…you know this. An besides it was his idea. (lays it on thick) I felt really bad for him, what with all that he's gone through.

SENTINEL  
(unsympathetic)  
But spark reading! C'mon. I feel sorry for the guy too, but that doesn't entitle him to my--

CHROMIA  
(snapping in defense)  
You're no pillar of faithfulness. I've seen how your optics wander.

SENTINEL  
(flabbergasted)  
Optics are a far cry from hands and spark chambers!

She accepts the defeat of her attempted misdirection and continues with the pity card.

CHROMIA  
I was only trying to help him.

SENTINEL  
Look how well that turned out!

The femme needs a new approach and resorts to the classic 'damsel in distress.' She closes the gap between them and grasps at his arm.

CHROMIA  
Aren't you relieved that he didn't hurt me?

Sentinel's suspicious of the physical contact but he's unable to pull away from it.

SENTINEL  
If I wasn't so angry, maybe!…(he starts to give and drops his head in disappointment) How could you be so irresponsible? Inappropriate behavior aside, what if you ran into the 'cons?

She does an internal victory dance and presses herself harder into him, shifting a hand from his arm to fondle the Elite Guard symbol on his chest.

CHROMIA  
(pathetically)  
You're right. I was foolish, and irresponsible. (really plays it up) I wasn't thinking clearly…all I wanted was to see my old friend again, to help in anyway I could.

Sentinel sighs in acceptance as the warmth of her touch breaks down his defenses. He rests his hand on the small of her back and cups her face with the other, brushing her cheek with his thumb.

SENTINEL  
(meeting her desperate gaze)  
I don't mean to come down so hard, but I just…get so frustrated. You should be helping relieve the weight on my shoulders, not piling more on.

She's struck with an idea and shifts out of his hold to guide him to her berth. She pats its surface, signaling the magnus to sit down. When he complies, she slides behind him on her knees and starts whole-heartedly kneading his shoulders.

CHROMIA  
I know…Oh, Primus I really messed up this time. Does Optimus Prime blame me for Prowl's disappearance?

SENTINEL  
(unable to release his tension)  
He doesn't appear to, but no one has a clear picture of what happened. (twists around with intent of interrogation) Why did Prowl attack you?

She pauses the massage for effect as she pretends to be upset by the memory of her encounter with the ninja.

CHROMIA  
(avoiding his glare)  
Ohh, I don't wanna talk about--

SENTINEL  
(pressing his glare harder)  
I know you don't WANT to talk about it, but you need to (twists back around and attempts to relax as she resumes the massage) …for his sake. So we can try to help Optimus get him back. Believe me, I don't want to hear the details, but personal feelings aside, we need to know.

The femme knows there's no avoiding this subject so she concedes to playing the ace up her sleeve.

CHROMIA  
(dripping with regret)  
Well…I, uh…I…accidentally mentioned…that you guys…denied him a place in the Hall of Heroes. And that's when he attacked me.

Sentinel jerks around, optics widening with shock, and he grips her upper arms firmly.

SENTINEL  
You…accidentally mentioned that! (slightly shakes her) How does an trained intelligence agent accidentally slip up like that!?

CHROMIA  
(slumping helplessly in his grip)  
Because I wasn't an agent in the moment. I was a young and reckless academy bot…(bows head in confession) lost in the moment with a kindred spirit. Prowl and I were always very open with each other--

SENTINEL  
(releases her)  
Enough! I get it. (he twists back around and leans into his legs, pinching his temple) Let's move onto other matters now before I do something I regret. (rises to his feet and attempts an air of professionalism before delivering his next thought) Some new evidence toward the 'con's escape has been discovered.

This is not the subject she hoped he would switch to.

CHROMIA  
(grasping at genuine surprise)  
Evidence?

SENTINEL  
Yes. Perceptor detected substantial amounts of an advanced energon booster in the prisoner rations, which explains how the 'cons broke through their cells.

She remains seated on the berth like a curious child, tucking her legs further underneath her body and tilting her head in apparent confusion.

CHROMIA  
They broke through their cells because the stasis control device faltered.

He confronts her with a matter-of-fact tone.

SENTINEL  
You're wrong. There's no way they could have broken through those cells without a boost in energon levels.

She leans forward into her hands and really plays up the shocked curiosity.

CHROMIA  
How did the cubes get altered?

SENTINEL  
(averts his gaze and rubs his chin ponderously)  
They're unclear as to how, but not to when. Perceptor's analysis of the energon pinpoints its alteration occurring only cycles prior to the 'cons drinking it.

The femme pales, her ventilations increasing in speed. Her processor grasps at any shred of reasonable defense but to no avail and she relents to accept that her cover may just be blown.

CHROMIA  
(wincing)  
What are you saying?

Sentinel is oblivious to her shift in composure and continues to stare at the wall, lost in his troubling thoughts.

SENTINEL  
You're not gonna like this, being he's your friend an all…but we believe Brawn may be acting as a double-agent.

She practically floats from burden just lifted off her back.

CHROMIA  
Brawn! You don't say, why him?

SENTINEL  
Brawn has a long history of breaking protocol and apparently, he's taken a fancy to Megatron's gladiatorial arena in Kaon.

The mention of the glorious name encourages her need to float even more.

CHROMIA  
How can Megatron run an arena if he's on earth?

Sentinel's reacts in frustration at the thought of Megatron and starts pacing in front of the femme.

SENTINEL  
He's not. That dirty dealercon has weaseled his way under the truce and started up the fights again. (raises a curious optic brow to her) I'm surprised you don't know about this.

CHROMIA  
(she practically has the lie in a holster)  
Swindle and I are not exactly on speaking terms anymore.

The magnus slams his fist into his palm.

SENTINEL  
As it should be! I only wish the same were true of Brawn.

CHROMIA  
(eager to change the subject)  
Where is Brawn now?

He releases his tension in a disappointed sigh and sits back down on the berth.

SENTINEL  
Confined to his quarters until we can approach him with more evidence.

She wastes no time sliding a hand upon his back.

CHROMIA  
(gushing with regret)  
Wow. I can't believe this deception happened right under my nose. (leans into his shoulder) I'm sorry I keep failing you.

He's buffed by her groveling and swings a thick arm around her frame, pulling her against his broad chest.

SENTINEL  
Don't apologize. It's not in your capacity to fathom, let alone detect such actions of mutiny.

It takes everything in her being not to rip his vocalizer out. She allows a few twitches to escape before cooling off and resting her head against his chest.

Sentinel's elevated state is interrupted by the beeping of his private comm.

SENTINEL  
(opening the call)  
Magnus here.

RODIMUS  
Sentinel Magnus, we are about to deploy through the Space Bridge. I anticipate our arrival on Earth within the megacycle.

SENTINEL  
Thanks for the update. Who did you find to replace Brawn?

RODIMUS  
Cliffjumper.

**CYBERTRON - SPACE BRIDGE TERMINAL**

Rodimus Prime stands proud with his team upon the transwarp platform. The team consists of Hot Shot, Ironhide, Cliffjumper, Warpath and Red Alert who are all standing in erect formation behind their Prime.

CLIFFJUMPER  
Yes sir?

Ironhide elbows the scrappy mech.

IRONHIDE  
He's talkin' to Sentinel, not you.

CLIFFJUMPER  
Oh…well pit, he said my name…Someone should tell Rodimus to tell Sentinel to reinstate Brawn. The bot's not a traitor. There's foul play at work--

HOT SHOT  
Shut it, Cliffjumper!

CLIFFJUMPER  
(defensive)  
But it's a crock a'sludge that he's under house arrest.

HOT SHOT  
I agree, but now's not the time.

WARPATH  
Whoever the traitor is better pray I don't get a hold a'them…(gestures some boxing moves) BAM, POW.

RED ALERT  
(agitated whisper)  
All of you, keep it down. This is a serious mission, we need to stay focused.

CLIFFJUMPER  
(lowering his voice)  
Easy for you to say. You just gotta sit back and wait till someone gets hurt.

Warpath, maintaining a proper forward-facing stance, snaps his arm out and clamps his bulky hand around Cliffjumper's neck.

WARPATH  
(calm but threatening)  
Way outta line, soldier.

This action doesn't escape the prime's peripheral. He twists is head back with a raised brow, pinning Warpath with a glare.

RODIMUS  
(into comm)  
I'll update you again once we've arrived on Earth. (gestures his disapproval at the tankbot) Rodimus Prime out.

Warpath release his victim with indifference. Cliffjumper grumbles and rubs his neck until the prime's glare slides to him, forcing him back into a respectable composure.

RODIMUS  
(shifting his focus to the bot at the control console)  
We're good to go, Wheeljack.


	19. Foiled

A/N - Lots and lots of blah blah blah this time.

I think I have a crush on Rodimus...I KNOW I have a crush on Lockdown! ^_^

ps...I FINALLY have a proper title! ::internal victory dance::

* * *

**DETROIT - SUMDAC TOWER ROOF**

Optimus Prime and his team gaze upon the space bridge with anticipation as it fills with radiating light. The sun is just setting over the city and is casting a dazzling orange glow that gradients into purple when meeting the blue transwarp energy. The silhouettes of five elite bots materialize before the earthbound team then fill with their distinguishing details as the transwarp glow descends from its climax and retreats to a singularity. Rodimus Prime's striking orange flames are captured brilliantly by the matching sun beams as he steps down from the platform and greets Optimus with a firm and respectful handshake.

The primes' teams follow suit and great each other with varying degrees of respect, some happy to be united, others unable to resist sizing one another up. Warpath and Jazz greet with the respectful half-bows of trained cyber ninjas, while Ratchet and Red Alert meet with a hug. Bumblebee raises a brow to Ironhide who smirks sheepishly and pegs the yellow bot with a firm but friendly punch to the arm.

Once the proper greetings and introductions cease, Optimus leads the group to the transport shuttle parked atop the tower--the same shuttle Optimus Prime 'borrowed' from Iacon. There's an uneasy tension as everyone boards, mainly due to the fact that such a high-risk and serious mission is being conducted from a shuttle designed to taxi Cybertronian tourists. After everyone finds a seat, there are only a few empty spaces left. The primes take their places at the helm while everyone else splits off by twos as that's how the seats are laid out.

Rodimus observes as the other prime flips switches and throws levers to power up the ship, then swivels in his copilot's chair to look upon the crew with a smirk.

RODIMUS  
Not exactly an Ark but who am I to argue.

OPTIMUS  
(chuckling)  
We work with what we have, old friend. The energy signal dampener Professor Sumdac installed on this rig is all we need to breech the island's perimeter undetected.

Ratchet leans forward from his front row seat next to Red Alert and wastes not time barking his opinion.

RATCHET  
So long as you land in the lake as we planned not on top of their base! You sure you don't want me to man the helm, sir?

OPTIMUS  
(casting a glance over his shoulder)  
I'm fine, Ratchet, and I thank you for the encouragement.

RODIMUS  
(lowering his voice to Optimus)  
Medics…they think they're beyond rank I'll tell ya.

Red Alert reacts with insult and pokes Rodimus in the arm.

RED ALERT  
I heard that!

As the shuttle lifts off into the pink and orange sky, everyone slightly shifts in mood toward the reality of the mission at hand. Rodimus waits until they finish their ascent and the ship levels out before he rises from his seat and looks over the mix of expressions.

RODIMUS  
(typically calm and collected)  
Should I go over the mission details again or are you all clear on your assignments?

The crew murmurs with an array of responses, all of which uniquely answer the prime's question with a unified 'yes, we're clear'.

RODIMUS  
Good!…Now, who is going to--

He's interrupted by the sound of static blaring from Optimus' comm link, static which then bleeds into the hefty vocals of one speech-enabled Dinobot.

GRIMLOCK  
Grimlock calling Optimus Prime.

RATCHET  
(typically irritated)  
Will that buffoon ever learn your private comm frequency?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(into comm)  
Prime, here. What's the situation, Grimlock?

GRIMLOCK  
Me Grimlock think island haunted.

Rodimus twists around to display his shock at Optimus.

RODIMUS  
That is your informant?

Optimus gestures to the flame-painted bot to lower his voice.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Just…give it a cycle. Grimlock's methods of reporting are…somewhat vague, but we can usually piece together his meaning...after some…deliberation. (into comm) Haunted, Grimlock? What do you mean?

GRIMLOCK  
Me Grimlock see robots rise out of dirt carrying pink thingies, disappear into air, reappear on ground without pink thingies and then sink back into dirt. This happen over and over until they no more reappear from air. Me Grimlock think island haunted with robot ghosts.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(rubbing his forehead with impatience)  
Were the robots see-through like ghosts, Grimlock or were their chassis solid?

GRIMLOCK  
They solid.

Optimus switches to rubbing his chin as he mulls over the Dinobot's report, straining to piece together a clear image.

RODIMUS  
(arrogantly)  
The 'cons are alive. This much we know.

Jazz rises from his seat two rows back and advances on the primes with urgency.

JAZZ  
Yo primes, you diggin' the dude's vibe?

RODIMUS  
(raising a brow to Jazz)  
Apparently you are.

JAZZ  
The 'cons are packin' up their life juice and hittin' the road via one incognito ride!

RATCHET  
(snapping at Jazz)  
Is it below you to talk like a normal bot?

The primes look at each other with worried realization then lock optics onto Jazz for verification.

Jazz sighs with frustration before delivering his next line.

JAZZ  
(severely lacking intonation)  
The Decepticons are loading energon cubes onto a cloaked ship.

RODIMUS  
(with authority)  
Who do we know of with a ship like this?

RATCHET  
Lockdown!

RODIMUS  
(turning to Ratchet)  
Do you have a means of contacting Lockdown?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(with a defeated droop of posture)  
We used to. Prowl was the only one who knew his comm frequency.

RODIMUS  
(obviously uniformed to the Prowl situation)  
And…where is Prowl?

Jazz is stung by the memory of his absent friend. He somberly turns away and slumps down into his seat. He is immediately consoled when the red-haired teenager draped over the back of his chair lays her tiny hand onto his shoulder. He rests his hand upon hers and gives her a smile of gratitude.

The ship's entire crew give Rodimus a disapproving look.

RODIMUS  
(offended)  
What?! I thought he was brought back to life!

Red Alert shakes her head and points to the co-pilot seat with a snap.

RED ALERT  
Just sit down and rest your mouth for a cycle.

Grimlock's voice bursts back into the room, complaining like an attention-starved child.

GRIMLOCK  
Why truckbot stop talking to Grimlock!?

Optimus Prime is snapped back into the present situation by the Dinobot's voice.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(into comm)  
I, uh…sorry, Grimlock. Now…tell us…are the robots loading the pink thingies as we speak.

GRIMLOCK  
No! Why must Autobot make Grimlock repeat himself? Me Grimlock say robots stop carrying pink thingies and disappear into air!

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(growing with paranoia)  
When, Grimlock!? When did they stop!?

GRIMLOCK  
Umm…fiery ball in sky--

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Today! It only just happened today? (turns to Rodimus with hopeful urgency) We may still be able to intercept them.

Grimlock roars angrily, capturing the attention of the entire crew.

GRIMLOCK  
Stop…interrupting…Me Grimlock!…(huffs a couple times) You stop talking, now?…Can Me Grimlock continue?

Optimus pinches the bridge of his nose as if to keep his processor from bursting out from between his optics.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Go ahead, Grim--

GRIMLOCK  
(interrupting)  
As Me Grimlock saying, fiery ball in sky show up after robots disappear into air. It almost been full cycle of fiery ball since Me Grimlock last see robots.

Optimus whips his glance to Rodimus with panic.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(into comm)  
Last night! (panic morphing to frustration) This happened last night and you're just now telling me about it!? What part of 'report any unusual activity the instant it happens' did I not make clear to you?

GRIMLOCK  
(calm but offended)  
Me Grimlock go now since bossy Autobot be rude.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(desperately)  
No, wait!

Rodimus shakes his head with disgust and pounds his fist on the console.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Grimlock, can you please scan the island for energy signatures…of any kind…be it Decepticon, Autobot or Starship.

GRIMLOCK  
You mean use thingy given to Grimlock by funny-looking human?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(patience hanging by a fraying thread)  
Yes! Use the energy tracker given to you by Professor Sumdac to search the island for any signs of Cybertronian machinery.

After several sanity-prodding cycles of Optimus Prime playing energy tracker tech-support to the Dinobot, Grimlock successfully carries out the request. The results, however are not to the liking of the prime, or anyone else aboard the shuttle, as the scan proves the island completely devoid of anything bearing an alien energy signature.

Optimus and Rodimus are left blankly staring at each other while the entire ship's crew stares at them with anticipation of a new plan.

RODIMUS  
(too baffled to be anything but dangerously calm)  
How could this have happened?

Optimus leans his aching processor into his hands.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(speaking only in earshot of Rodimus and the medics)  
This is all my fault. I should've sent Jazz to scout the island, not rely on the Dinobots.

Ratchet, although softening in sympathy to his prime, is not about to let him continue down a path of regret.

RATCHET  
(reassuring)  
Shoulda, coulda, woulda…don't beat yourself up, Prime. These last few orbital cycles have been rather taxing. (he rests his hand on Optimus' forearm and lowers his voice to a rare, soothing level) We all put our efforts where they were most needed…into Prowl's wellbeing. How would we have seen this coming?

The Autobot leader lifts his head toward his medic, his regret sliding by the wayside as a painfully dawning expression forms across his face.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(quietly)  
That was their plan, Ratchet…don't you see it now?

Ratchet looks questionably to his leader.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
That's why they resurrected Prowl…to distract us while they collected energon and made their getaway. (voice drops into humility as regret overwhelms him again) And we blindly fell right into it.

The shuttle's occupants grow restless and mumble amongst themselves what they think the discussion is at the helm.

Rodimus sits and festers in his own thoughts, fingers impatiently fidgeting with one of his arrows. He refuses to let this turn of events get the better of him and with a snap of the arrow, he forces a shift back into his commanding role then rises to face ship's crew.

RODIMUS  
Autobots! As you are aware, there has been a slight alteration to our mission. The Decepticons have rerouted the battlefront to a destination unbeknownst to us. (he puffs up at the sound of his own vocals and takes a proud step closer to his captivated army). My question to you all is, what is the obvious location of this battlefront if not here on this planet?

Bumblebee pops his hand in the air like an eager teacher's pet.

BUMBLEBEE  
Ooo, Ooo, I know, I know!…(he looks around, cheerfully indifferent to the stares locked on him) They've gone to Cybertron!

RODIMUS  
(points an empowering finger to Bumblebee)  
That is correct, young bot. (jolts his glance over his shoulder at Optimus) Can this baby take us to Cybertron?

Optimus raises his head at the question, processor working overtime to fathom the possibility of leaving Earth so spontaneously.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Yeah but…we can't just pick up and go…not without…proper planning, and--

RATCHET  
(snapping at the primes)  
Both a ya need to pull yer heads outta each others afts…sirs. Why the spark would we fly this thing to Cybertron when we have a fully functioning space bridge.

RODIMUS  
(knocked down a couple notches)  
Excellent observation, Ratchet. (attempts to recover his pride) The sooner we get there the better. (turns to address the crew) Somebody needs to update our Magnus on this turn of events.

The entire crew immediately breaks optic contact with the prime.

RODIMUS  
(knocked down another notch)  
I guess I'll do that. (turns back to Optimus, once again restoring some pride) C'mon soldier! Let's turn this ship around. (takes his seat next to his fellow prime) There are new horizons awaiting us.

**DEATH'S HEAD CRUISER- EN ROUTE TO CYBERTRON**

The claustrophobia of his ship's bridge is too much for the bounty hunter to bear. The Decepticons seem to be on a mission specifically goaled at annoying him, what with Megatron conquering his captain's chair and Starscream tactlessly poking around his trophy shelf. The others were just loitering--obnoxiously loitering; taking up what little space was left around the massive blanketed stacks of their 'classified cargo' with petty arguments and mindless banter. Lockdown can't take it anymore and not-so-politely excuses himself from the bridge, grumbling his way down the hall to his recharge quarters.

As he approaches the door, he pauses to cast a glance at the engine room door, but then forces himself to deny the temptation of checking on his stowaway. The last thing he needs is to risk summoning the scrap storm that would come from the 'cons discovering of the kid's presence. He tries to put the ninja in the back of his mind as he enters his quarters. His optics instantly lock on the alien object sitting on his berth; an object bearing the indistinguishable form of a cyber ninja helmet, with its colors masked by the purple fibers encasing it. He rushes over to inspect it but is caught off guard by the raspy feminine vocals ambushing him from the darkest corner of the room.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Don't you touch that!

Lockdown spins around to face the presence, cursing himself for failing to account for the stealthy spiderbot's whereabouts on his ship. He watches the techno-organic with hostility as she drops down on a silken rope then skitters onto the berth, protecting the helmet as if it were her offspring.

LOCKDOWN  
Th'spark you doing in here?

The predacon elegantly transforms into robot mode and steps down off the berth, snatching up her prized possession and clutching it against her chest.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Same as you, I'm guessing.

LOCKDOWN  
Barging in on a bot's private space? Nah, darlin', that's not what I'm doin'.

She sizes him up with a sneer, baring the full body of one porcelain fang between her parted lips.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You want me outta here?…Fine. (she sways past him, aiming for the door). I'll seek my solitude behind the only other door of your cramped little world.

The hunter's optics brighten with paranoia and he reaches out in a snap and grabs her forcefully by the arm.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(hissing with surprise and insult)  
Get your hand off me!

He pulls her back toward the berth, indifferent to her colorful protests, then flashes her a gap-tooth grin as he gently releases her arm.

LOCKDOWN  
(oddly cheerful)  
By all means, stick around.

He casually approaches his berth and flops down onto it, kicking his feet up and crossing them with annoying placidity. He inspects her head to toe as she tries to interpret his actions, then dares an antagonizing wink at her.

LOCKDOWN  
Can think of a few ways to pass the time.

The predacon gasps in repulsion and huffs back a couple steps from the berth.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You're disgusting!

The bounty hunter simply retorts with a hearty chuckle and leans forward to playfully nudge her hip with his hook.

LOCKDOWN  
Just messin' with ya, gal. Fer Primu'sake, take it easy. (gestures to old oil drum near the berth) Have a seat…tell me about that…thing yer coddlin' like a sparkling.

She continues to regard him with disgust, attempting for a moment to translate his sudden shift of mood, then quickly bores of his obnoxiously contorted grin. She glowers in reluctance as she lets her guard down then glances at the oil drum behind her. Her optics drop to the helmet as she takes a seat.

BLACKARACHNIA  
None of your business.

LOCKDOWN  
Sure it's my business! Thing used to belong to me.

She looks to the hunter with doubting puzzlement.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Impossible. This belonged to the Autobot ninja, Prowl, and to his master before him.

LOCKDOWN  
(still grinning pompously)  
Never heard of 'em.

The predacon shakes her head in annoyance and rises from her seat.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You're so full of it! Pardon me if I seek out more genuine company.

She makes for the door but Lockdown tosses the nearest object he can find at her(a empty can of low grade), stopping her with a halt as the item whizzes by her face.

LOCKDOWN  
Sit yer spiny abdomen back down. I'm all the genuine company you need, 'specially considerin' yer options.

She can't help but crack a smile at his arrogance and rolls her four optics as she returns to her seat.

BLACKARACHNIA  
At what point did you get your slimy servos on Master Yoketron's helmet?

The question wipes the hunter's grin clean off his face and he's nearly impressed by the femme's casually oblivious ability to cut him to the core with one simple question.

LOCKDOWN  
Rather not talk about it.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(with a baffled shrug and another roll of her optics)  
'Course not! Why would you?

LOCKDOWN  
(slightly miffed by her sarcasm)  
Why should I share my story about it if you won't share yours?

She thoughtfully chews on the irony of his observation a moment then vents a relenting sigh.

BLACKARACHNIA  
We took it from Prowl after we resurrected him. (arches a glance to him)…You heard about that, right?

Lockdown fights the urge to interrogate the femme about the events potentially responsible for Prowl's glitched processor, fearing his displayed interest in the kid may raise too many red flags.

LOCKDOWN  
I caught a rumor. (shifts his shoulders so they're comfortably flush against the wall) Why'd you take it?

BLACKARACHNIA  
I didn't take it…Starscream did. (her mind drifts as she thinks back to the gifting of the helm; a corner of her mouth curls up slightly) He gave it to me…to help with--

She cuts herself off, already regretting what she let slip and afraid to look at the bounty hunter's reaction to it.

LOCKDOWN  
(with a spreading grin)  
Ahhh, how sweet.

BLACKARACHINA  
(optics widen in protest)  
It's not like that…(back peddling) we were going to disassemble it into its more basic components, to study the molecular composition in order to--

LOCKDOWN  
(interrupts with condescending)  
Of course you were. (grabs a can of low-grade from the shelf next to him) Want one?

BLACKARACHNIA  
No!…(settles down a bit) thank you.

LOCKDOWN  
(shrugs)  
Your loss. (uses his hook to impale a wide hole in the can's lip and, to the spiderbot's repulsion, and takes a long, noisy slurp of the foul liquid) So…you and your seeker sweetheart are gonna rip apart a perfectly good trophy for what now?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(huffing)  
He's not my…it doesn't matter now…I'm not going to use it for that. (drops her gaze down to the helmet and slowly trails her claws across it) I want to give it back to Prowl.

Lockdown chokes at hearing this and nearly sends his last gulp of oil projecting back out through the gap in his teeth.

LOCKDOWN  
How you planning on doin' that, what with you en route to Cybertron and the kid back on earth?

He instantly regrets the implication that could be made by the vocalizing of his personal nick name for the Autobot, but then relaxes when the femme appears unaffected by it.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(furrows her brow in uncertainty)  
Not really sure.

Lockdown puts back the last gulp of oil then crushes the can and tosses it to the ground; a routine he could undoubtedly do while in stasis.

LOCKDOWN  
(chuckling)  
Heh, you got it all planned out dontcha?

She regards the discarded can with the same resentment she feels for his sarcasm.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(with a snooty shrug)  
I'll figure something out.

Lockdown can no longer resist the urge to learn more about this femme's concern for his new partner. He drops his legs down off the berth and leans into his knees, hoping his sincere body language will help soften the femme to his interrogation.

LOCKDOWN  
Why give it back? What's in it for you?

She drops her optics back on the helmet and pauses in contemplation before answering.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Clear my conscience, I guess.

LOCKDOWN  
Conscience?…Oh right…you got Autobot programming.

She looks up at him, her next line armed with irony.

BLACKARACHNIA  
If I'm not mistaken, so do you.

LOCKDOWN  
(snapping sternly)  
Don't change the subject. (rolls his shoulder a half-turn creating a popping sound in his neck) So…what sins you commit against the kid?

He curses himself for slipping again.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(regretfully)  
It's not what I did...rather what I allowed to happen.

The bounty hunter starts growing impatient with her vague responses.

LOCKDOWN  
Whatever! Th'spark happen to him!?

Blackarachnia thinks back to Starscream's mention of Processor over Matter and how he believed the ninja capable of beating his human influence. She desperately wants to accept that as the truth and decides to steer the conversation out of regret and into optimism.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(meeting the hunter's optics with hope)  
Nothing that can't be undone by Processor over Matter and (gestures to the helmet) reuniting with his master.

Lockdown sits uncharacteristically still, dawning to the positive impact the helmet will have on the kid's tweaked processor. He's leery to the notion that a properly functioning Prowl may very well reject his partnership again, but the hunter couldn't live with himself if he didn't do everything in his power to restore the Prowl he once knew and respected. He looks down at it, mulling over thoughts of how to relieve the predacon of the item, then finally decides on the most direct route.

LOCKDOWN  
(sincere)  
I'll get it to him…I've got more business to do on Earth after I drop you 'cons off…I'll be able to make contact with him much sooner than you will.

She beholds him with enough skepticism to practically turn his joints to putty.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(properly insulted)  
What kind of half-wit do you take me for?…You expect me to believe YOU would go out of your way to selflessly hand a valuable trophy over to an Autobot?

Lockdown is forced to smile at the sheer ridiculousness of his offer and doesn't at all blame the femme for her reaction.

LOCKDOWN  
Fair enough.

He starts questioning the likeliness of Prowl's cover being blown if this femme were to learn of the bounty hunter's odd relationship with him. He figures there's no way she could know of his interest in the kid, let alone suspect the ninja's presence on the ship. After a couple introspective scrapes of his hook across his thigh, he settles on the justification that a unique acquaintance isn't enough evidence to convict the kid, especially since the femme is apparently unaware of Prowl's deserter status, and is obviously concerned for his well being.

Blackarachnia can't help but wonder if the bounty hunter's extended silence is incrimination to his possible sincerity.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(still clinging to disbelief)  
You're serious aren't you?

LOCKDOWN  
(hesitantly)  
As a spark attack…Kid n' I…got this thing…we can't help but bump into each other every now and then. S'only a matter a time 'fore the next…encounter.

She never suspected the bounty hunter could regard another bot in such a manner; and she finds this quite amusing.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(raising a brow)  
Sounds…complicated.

LOCKDOWN  
Y'don't know the half've it. (he drops his focus and starts fidgeting with his hook, taking a moment to formulate the inevitable words required to convince the femme of his sincerity) Look darlin'…I…promise you…on the respect of our mutually rejected Autobot heritage…that I'll get that thing back on Prowl's head…where it belongs.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(fully entertained by his bared state of being)  
You can't base a promise on a treacherous act.

LOCKDOWN  
(temper rearing its head)  
Well, I did anyway…now dammit, gal, you gonna trust me or not?

His uneasy levels of irritation are all she needs to see to take his word, but she decides to hold off on her acknowledgement of this. Watching the cocky mech squirm in discomfort is the most fun she's had in a while.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(playfully smiling)  
Are you even listening to yourself?

Lockdown groans in frustration and leans his forehead into his hook, nearly scraping the paint off the tattoo above his eye.

LOCKDOWN  
(growling through desperation)  
If returning that helmet means fixin' the kid's processor, then I assure you, I will do it.

She rises up with a proud chuckle and, to Lockdown's jolting surprise, drops the helmet on his lap.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(smug)  
You're right. Your company isn't so bad…at least once you've rolled over and exposed that soft little underbelly.

His only retort is a pouting grumble. He has the helmet now; his mission accomplished. Unless there is a shred of hope at scraping his dignity off the floor, there is no more to say.


	20. Behind the Curtain

_A/N: Some serious turn of events here. O.O...not sure what else to say about it besides, enjoy! (and please review if you likey ^_^)_

btw -_ [this is silent commspeak]_

* * *

**DEATH'S HEAD CRUISER - SOMEWHERE NEARING CYBERTRON**

Starscream is bored. Nearly an orbital cycle has passed since they boarded the ship and he is desperate for a form of stimulus. He had already exhausted the entertainment value of Lockdown's trophy shelf within the first megacycle of their journey. Where normally he would resort to teasing his fellow Decepticons for the cheap thrill of watching their tempers peak, he didn't dare risk a fight breaking out in the limited and volatile space of the ship's bridge. He wants to track down Blackarachnia's whereabouts, but each of his attempts to excuse himself only invites 'the look' from Megatron. He's a seeker. He needs to seek, not sit. Finally, the moment arises where Megatron is distracted by Shockwave's useless rambling and Starscream slips out unnoticed.

As he ventures down the hall, his optics lock on two doors. He can tell by differences in design that one clearly leads to a berth room which means the other must house the engine room. Uninterested in what the bounty hunter does behind closed doors, he chooses the door that promises a tour of the ship's mechanics. It takes a few hefty shoves to fling it open. He's instantly rattled by the deafening engine roar, but enters regardless, reasoning that the engine was easier on his audio receptors than Megatron's talking calculator of an intelbot. He shuts the door behind him, cutting off any and all light.

Pitch black. Not ideal for inspecting an engine. He's about to turn on his infrared when his heightened senses, signature to all seekers, pick up the signal of another presence in the room. Whoever it is, there is no doubt the seeker's entrance didn't go unnoticed. There isn't anyone on board who could pose a threat to him, but he switches on his infrared anyways, expecting to find four arachnid optics staring at him with primus-knows what intentions. His expectations are shot down as nothing apparently sentient comes to view. Impossible. He knows there's someone in here and he wasn't going to be made of a fool of. He's hit with an idea and runs a scan for a nearby comm frequency. No one can hide from a seeker, especially not one as brilliant as him. His scan proves successful but the results are not what he intended. An Autobot. The same Autobot they resurrected. Little did Starscream know when he sniped the Autobot's comm frequency during the resurrection, how soon he'd find a use for it.

STARSCREAM_  
[Am I correct in assuming you're not here to spy?]_

No response.

STARSCREAM_  
[I know you're here, Autobot. Show yourself.]_

Still no response.

STARSCREAM_  
[For spark's sake, Prowl, I won't turn you in. Blackarachnia would crucify me if I did such a thing.]_

A long pause, but finally, a response.

PROWL_  
[You expect me to believe you now value my well-being after what you did to me?]_

Starscream is pleased with himself for invoking a response, but disregards the attempted guilt trip by the ninja.

STARSCREAM_  
[No.]_

He casually takes a seat on the first object he sees resembling a flat surface and dives right into a pressing thought on his processor.

STARSCREAM_  
[But I do value your insight as to how you overcame your condition with Processor over Matter.]_

PROWL  
(After a pause)_  
[You are misinformed. Processor over Matter only weakens a damaged processor.]_

Starscream is neither satisfied or convinced with this answer.

STARSCREAM_  
[Sounds like you're the one who's misinformed.]_

The jet is surprised at the ninja's skewed logic. Chromia certainly must've done a number on him.

PROWL_  
[What do you know of Processor over Matter?]_

STARSCREAM_  
[I know you successfully held off Megatron and Lugnut with it.]_

PROWL_  
[Briefly held off. We would have perished if Optimus Prime did not intervene. I have no insight to offer to you and I request, that if you don't intend to turn me over, that you leave me be.]_

Starscream can't help be impressed by the ninja's stealth, but that doesn't stop him from continuing his meticulous scanning of the room.

STARSCREAM_  
[I'm going to deny that request as this is far more entertaining than my previous engagement of doing nothing.]_

Prowl doesn't reply so Starscream continues the conversation, indifferent to the Autobot's disinterest of his company.

STARSCREAM_  
[I have a hunch that Processor over Matter may just be the key to removing the unnatural intrusion we're both victim to. The human brain is, after all, only matter.]_

PROWL  
(interest peaked)_  
[You do not appear affected by your human influence.]_

Starscream scowls at the thought of his recent bouts of morality.

STARSCREAM_  
[Trust me, I am.]_

PROWL_  
[What is your hunch based off? You have no training in Circuit-su. How can you presume to know anything about Processor over Matter?]_

Starscream grins proudly.

STARSCREAM_  
[Because I am a genius.]_

Prowl doesn't reply to this, but his curiosity in the one bot who shares his condition is undeniable. He emerges from his stealthy nook near the ceiling, accepting this Decepticon's claim to keeping his presence a secret. The ninja flings a shuriken into the door handle, creating a makeshift lock, then drops down, passing by Starscream as he seeks a seat within a safe distance of the Decepticon.

Starscream utilizes the ninja's temporarily close proximity to run a scan (with his highly-tuned seeker senses) for organic readings. He's perplexed when the scan yields only his own organic readings and looks upon the ninja with near-reverence.

STARSCREAM_  
[You beat it.]_

PROWL_  
[What are you talking about?]_

STARSCREAM_  
[Your human counterpart. You rid yourself of it.]_

PROWL_  
[You may be a 'genius' with scientific matters, but that does not make you an expert on my--]_

Starscream interrupts with a screeching outburst that can be heard over the engine noise.

STARSCREAM  
Jeffrey Simon!

PROWL  
(leaps up and shouts back in terror)  
Don't!

Prowl instinctively drops his head down and clutches desperately at it, awaiting the inevitable intrusion of thought.

Starscream simply watches him with amusement, crossing his arms pompously over his cockpit.

Prowl lingers a moment in a cowering posture then lifts his head and looks upon Starscream with questioning and a twinge of relief.

PROWL_  
[How is this possible?]_

STARSCREAM_  
[I told you, you beat it. Probably with Processor over Matter, just as I expected.]_

PROWL_  
[That's impossible. Processor over Matter was the first technique I tried when learning of my condition. It is not a cure, merely a temporary suppression of my imposter.]_

STARSCREAM_  
[When was the last time you encountered your 'imposter'?]_

Prowl drops his head regretfully and sulks back into his seat.

PROWL_  
[When I attacked Chromia.]_

The seeker chuckles at the image, suppressing the urge to applaud the ninja. He'd love to see Prowl's reaction upon learning of her treacheries, but he logically refrains from blowing her cover. Stripping the Decepticons of their inside edge surely wouldn't sit well with Megatron.

STARSCREAM_  
[Did this 'Chromia' say your imposter's name?]_

Prowl strains to recall the events clearly in his processor. He remembers spending time with her but the details of their encounter is a blur. He recalls when she entered his room that she wasted no time shamelessly flinging herself upon him. He can safely blame his juvenile lust over his imposter's needs for giving into her seduction and slips a smirk at the faint memory of their...interaction. He can't recall in detail what happened after that, at least up until the point where Bulkhead burst into room.

STARSCREAM  
(impatient)_  
[Well, did she?]_

PROWL_  
[I cannot recall. She was aware of my condition and therefore should have known better than to speak the name.]_

STARSCREAM_  
[Is there anything else that can trigger your imposter?]_

PROWL_  
[Anger...and reminders of betrayal from those who are suppose to be trustworthy.]_

The ninja pauses in thought as the pieces slowly fall into place. It wasn't his imposter's anger or memories that triggered that attack. It was when she told him the cold, hard and painful fact about his teammates.

PROWL_  
[I attacked her out of my own will...The truth she spoke of was too much to bear.]_

STARSCREAM_  
[What did she say?]_

PROWL_  
[That my peers do not respect me or my sacrifice.]_

Starscream is now undeniably impressed and almost sickened by Chromia's work on this hapless Autobot. As much as he'd like to believe Autobots to be as shallow as the ninja claims, he knows they're not. The moral pings the seeker has put up with are nothing compared to what this Autobot must be dealing with. He cringes at the idea of being handicapped by demented processes and is grateful his own human counterpart has been mostly beneficial to him. His regard to Prowl has now shifted from curiosity to pity, and while internally cursing himself for succumbing to yet another moral emotion, he carries on with attempting to help the Autobot.

STARSCREAM_  
[When was the last time you can clearly remember your imposter surfacing?]_

Prowl pauses, playing back events in his mind, then brightens at a particular event. He's so excited by his revelation that he forgets to use commspeak.

PROWL  
The zoo!

Starscream smiles, pleased to see the ninja's lift of mood and even more pleased that his hunches are proving factual.

STARSCREAM_  
[See, I told you. Processor over Matter.]_

Prowl's afraid to accept this as fact. It seems too easy. He didn't want to get his hopes up only to have them crushed.

PROWL_  
[But, I used it on Megatron and Lugnut, not myself. It doesn't make any sense.]_

STARSCREAM_  
[Of course it doesn't. It's a spiritual phenomenon. It obeys its own set of rules…much to science's disapproval.]_

Starscream flinches to the sudden infiltration to his comm by the all-too-familiar frequency of his leader.

MEGATRON_  
[Get your weaselly aft back to the bridge. We will soon be landing in Kaon.]_

Starscream pinches his face in annoyance and takes all of an astrosecond to decide on procrastinating the tyrant's order.

The ship's engine drastically drops its pitch as the Death's Head begins her descent. Her deafening roars sound pleased to finally ease up and the room quiets down. The room's occupants are relieved to finally be able to communicate vocally.

STARSCREAM  
(looking to Prowl with urgency)  
What's your plan, cyber ninja? I assume this is where you get off?

Due to the changing of events, paranoia is now added to Prowl's mix of excitement and confusion.

PROWL  
I...do not know anymore.

Starscream's patience starts to give as he yanks the shuriken from the door handle and tosses back to Prowl.

STARSCREAM  
It's not a difficult question, Autobot. Do you want my assistance at covering your exit or not?

PROWL  
(beholding Starscream in surprise)  
You would...do that for me?

STARSCREAM  
(bordering on irritated)  
If you make a decision like, NOW, then yes, I'll help you.

The ninja frantically runs the scenarios through his processor: partner with Lockdown, a potentially suffocating existence where he would always be looking over his shoulder, or build a new life on Cybertron? If there is a chance he's truly cured of his condition, then he has no reason to fear a solitary existence. The idea of such a life taunts the ninja; one of peace, simplicity, independence, all beckoning to him like an old friend.

PROWL  
Yes!...I want off the ship.

Starscream nods at the ninja then yanks the door open.

STARSCREAM  
I'll comm you when the coast is clear. Are those rocket boosters on your shoulders or just bulky decora--

PROWL  
(interrupting)  
I am capable of flight. Are you suggesting I leave before the ship lands?

STARSCREAM  
That would be best. Primus knows the madness that'll incur upon landing...what with my colleagues making mad dashes for the exit to escape the close proximity of each other.

The jet leaves the room, mumbling something about his own claustrophobia. He pulls the door shut, then notices the door across the hall slide open. Blackarachnia emerges and beholds Starscream with question.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What are you--

Starscream immediately grabs her shoulders and guides her down the hallway toward the bridge.

STARSCREAM  
(urgently)  
I need you to cover for me...say I was with you these past several cycles, if the question arises.

His request and his actions peak her curiosity.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Why? What's going--

STARSCREAM  
(pleading through impatience)  
Just...trust me.

Starscream and Blackarachnia enter the bridge. Starscream takes a mental inventory of its occupants, making sure all the Decepticons and the bounty hunter are accounted for.

Megatron hovers over Lockdown as the bounty hunter steers the ship down into the speckle of lights that is Kaon. The Decepticon leader insists they land in the arena, despite the bounty hunters attempted protests. Megatron reasons its open roof will make for an easy landing plus the towering walls will hide the ship while they unload their cargo. He is under the assumption the arena is still inactive and figures there will be nobody of importance to witness their arrival.

Starscream watches from the back of the bridge as the city lights grow larger and brighter, then discretely delivers his promised message.

STARSCREAM  
(to Prowl's comm)_  
[Go now...and...best of luck.]_

PROWL_  
[Thank you.]_

**CYBERTRON - KAON - GLADIATORIAL ARENA**

The red lights of the descending Death's Head cruiser command the attention of the spectators and they react with a resounding murmur of surprise. Waspinator is readying a final blow on his limp opponent, but refrains when hearing his audience's change of mood. The predacon looks across the crowd, highly insulted that something else has apparently become more interesting than his battling prowess. His opponent's optics widen and he points a weakened hand to the sky and attempts a stuttering warning.

Swindle rises from his cushy seat in the VIP booth, dropping his jaw at the unplanned turn of events. He gasps when the invasive and very familiar aircraft plants down in his precious sporting grounds, nearly crushing his dumbfounded prize fighter. He immediately gets on his comm, face awash with frustration.

SWINDLE  
(into comm)  
Lockdown, what in Cybertron do you think you're doing!?

**DEATH'S HEAD BRIDGE**

Lockdown scowls at the command in his comm then turns his contorted expression toward Megatron.

LOCKDOWN  
Got Swindle on the comm. You want him to explain the arena's activity, or would ya rather keep assumin' the place is abandoned.

Lugnut's optics brighten furiously to the bounty hunter's lack of respect.

LUGNUT  
How dare you address the mighty--

Megatron silences the hulking purple mech with a belittling glare, then slides his focus back on the unnerving spectacle of a populated arena.

MEGATRON  
Patch him through.

Lockdown complies and the comm screen fills with the disapproving visage of Swindle.

SWINDLE  
Are you going to explain yourself Lockdown or-- (he cuts himself off when he sees Lockdown's passengers; the dealer's signature grin spreads across his face) Megatron!

MEGATRON  
(temper rising)  
Swindle...you will explain this instant what in the name of the All Spark is going on in my arena.

SWINDLE  
(pandering)  
I'd love to! My oh my, how I wish I knew you were coming.(slides a subtle glare to Lockdown) ...We would've rolled out the red carpet, broken out the high grade, reserved you a seat in the VIP--

MEGATRON  
(infuriated)  
Enough!

The enraged tyrant cuts the call off then snatches Lockdown by the neck and pins him into the console, red optics boring into the tattooed face.

MEGATRON  
Did you know about this!?

Lockdown knows when he's outgunned with size and force but he tries to maintain a semblance of pride.

LOCKDOWN  
(strained by the fingers squeezing his neck)  
Tried to...tell ya earlier...Ya wouldn't listen.

Megatron flings Lockdown to the floor behind, frustrated at the stinging fact that the bounty hunter is right. He leans into the console, anger rising at each passing moment that his processor doesn't yield an acceptable solution to the change of events.

Shockwave approaches his leader with apprehension, taking it upon himself as second-in-command to break the tense silence with a logical explanation.

SHOCKWAVE  
My liege, permission to sp--

MEGATRON  
(shouting)  
Say it!

SHOCKWAVE  
This turn of events is not to our disadvantage. We have just made an impressive entrance, and what better way to win over the population than to offer our charity of energon right here and n--

The intel bot is interrupted by the ship's warning alarm and the computer's feminine vocals.

SHIP'S COMPUTER  
Warning. Hostile action detected. Missile lock from alien source confirmed. Approximate time of impact: 189 astroseconds.

MEGATRON  
(disbelieving)  
What is this?

Lockdown springs to his feet, panic surging through his processor.

LOCKDOWN  
It can't be.

Swindle pops back onto the bounty hunter's comm.

SWINDLE_  
[My advice, old friend, get off your ship...right now.]_

Everyone on the bridge lingers in silent disbelief, eagerly awaiting orders from their leader. Megatron remains quiet, back turned to his soldiers and festering with an overload of processes.

Lugnut's not the brightest of the bunch but he knows a dangerous situation when it rears its head. He grasps his leader's arm and yanks him toward the exit, shouting to the rest of the 'cons to follow.

**ARENA GROUNDS**

The Decepticons and the bounty hunter dash down the Death's Head exit ramp and frantically seek a safe distance from the ticking time bomb. Lockdown freezes in his tracks, clutching tightly the cyber ninja helmet in his grasp and cursing loudly at his forgetfulness. He heads back to the ship with a critical mission but freezes again when a lethal song of whistling missiles stings his audio receptors. He can only stand helpless as his ship ignites in a massive explosion.

The blast flings the bounty hunter to a far corner of the sporting grounds. He slams into the ground with an abrupt grunt, but the resulting pain is the least of his concern. He immediately looks over the spectacle of a bewildered audience, grounded Decepticons, and then finally, the blazing remains of his precious home, still erupting with exploding energon cubes. The loss of the Death's Head would've normally been a severe blow to him, but this particular situation has him paralyzed with shock over another loss.

LOCKDOWN  
Prowl.

Everyone lingers in a state of shock as Swindle's greasy image fills the giant screens encircling the sporting grounds.

SWINDLE  
(typically cheerful voice blaring over the loud speakers)

Megatron. Decepticons. Faithful attendees of the arena. I sincerely apologize for our explosive disruption to tonight's events. My colleagues felt that was the only viable course of action, given the immense energon reading they detected aboard the vessel. You see, we have a delicate balance of power to maintain in this reborn city, and we cannot allow the esteemed Decepticon leader --the arena's founding champion mind you-- to tip the scales with his dynamically persuasive influence. That would only invite conflict and uprising.

Megatron absorbs the events like a cornered, feral beast: his optics blaze a lethal crimson, his ventilations dangerously high. In his grasp, clutched protectively, is the energon converter.

SWINDLE  
On that note, allow me to introduce the beings behind the curtain of our thriving community. The driving force of our arena's rebirth, watching omnipotently as we speak from their cloaked warship above.

Swindle's image is replaced with the egg-shaped, multi-faced and tentacled oddness that represents an infamously threatening alien invasion.

SWINDLE  
I present to you, the Quintessons.


	21. Test of Allegiance

_A/N:__ This update is HUGE. A lot going on, a lot of 'bots to account for, a lot of reactions to be had. I jumped around to so many heads in this section, I don't think I can return to my own. Oh well, not like I was sane before. ^_~_

_Oh ya, if you want some G1 Megs/Screamer candy (mild slash candy), check out my latest vid on YouTube under the name ToyzInTheAttikk._

* * *

**CYBERTRON - GLADIATORIAL ARENA**

A Quintesson's appearance alone is not intimidating. Their five faces, especially the face of Death, may still have the ability to strike fear into a youngling with its looks alone but generally speaking, any bot who was around during the Great War knows how incredibly cowardice a Quintesson is when confronted and stripped on his toys. To the misfortune of Megatron and his Decepticons, these particular three Quintessons beaming from the arena's monitors have plenty of toys and a giant cloaked warship looming ominously overhead.

The Quintessons, each wearing a different face, introduce themselves as Brinn, Deliberata and Sevax. Deliberata is obviously filling the highest rank of the three, given his upstaged position from the other two. With his War face, he explains just how intimidating their warship is and how any hostile against it will only trigger a chain reaction of doom for anyone brash enough to attempt attacking it.

Megatron is too livid to speak. He is fully aware of the volatile situation and therefore makes it a point not to speak for fear his temper could very well get him destroyed on the spot. He isn't sure which angers him more: the attack the Quintessons just made or the fact that he didn't account for a third party interest in Kaon. All the Decepticons are dumbfounded with shock, and look to their leader for a sign of reassurance to a hopeful outcome. The tyrant's expression screams a multitude of feelings, none of which can even be remotely interpreted as hope.

Deliberata continues the speech with a pride that belittles every listening ear in the arena.

DELIBERATA  
We are the same three you have no doubt seen in archived images and videos of this very arena, for we were the ones who oversaw its operations during the war. Back then we were merely looking for a venue to sell our war-grade weaponry. And you, being the warmongering beings you are, gladly partook of our offerings, ignorant to the fact that we conducted business with both factions.

Starscream is not one to be intimidated easily, regardless of the odds stacked against him. Having served as Megatron's second-in-command all through the war, a precarious situation such as this is nothing new. There were many times in their past where he stepped up to be the voice of their leader, be it from Megatron's temporary incapacity or simply because the jet was stupid enough to over step his rank whenever he darn well felt like it. This moment was a clear case of an incapacitated leader and Starscream knew why. He is an expert in the field of Megatron's temper and recognizes his leader's current vow of silence as a means to protect his own chassis.

STARSCREAM  
(fearlessly shouting upward)  
Enough with the history lesson! Explain your intentions.

All the arena's occupants lock their wide-optic stare to Starscream. Everyone expected another set of missiles to create a crater where the seeker stood, but that did not happen. The smallest Quintesson, Sevax, switches his face from Wisdom to Anger, but that is the only visible reaction from the three. Deliberata appears indifferent to the seeker's outburst.

DELIBERATA  
We are here for the crystal mines.

STARSCREAM  
(sarcastically)  
Who isn't?

DELIBERATA  
(growing slightly annoyed)  
The Decepticons have failed repeatedly to overthrow the Autobot's control of these mines. We are here to do the job right and ultimately take control of the planet.

STARSCREAM  
How original.

Starscream looks over the faces of the other Decepticons, all of them silently screaming 'shut the frag up'; He ignores their warning and continues the interrogation.

STARSCREAM  
What makes you think you can overpower the Autobots? Iacon City is a veritable fortress, impenetrable by even your warship's firepower.

The other Quintesson, Brinn, switches his face to Anger as the three murmur amongst themselves in regard to the questioning seeker who apparently doesn't value his life. After a moment of deliberation, Deliberta turns to face the crowd.

DELIBERATA  
What is your name?

STARSCREAM  
(not missing a beat)  
I am Starscream: Chief Science Officer and Second-in-Command of the Decepticons.

Shockwave crosses him arms in annoyance.

RANDOM BLITZWING  
(tactless as usual)  
I sought Shockvave vas Seco--

SHOCKWAVE  
(snapping)  
Silence, fool!

DELIBERATA  
Well, Starscream: proclaimed practitioner of science…are you familiar with the latest technological breakthroughs in the development of weapons of mass destruction?

A chilling silences falls over the arena. Even Starscream is left momentarily speechless.

STARSCREAM  
(knocked down a few notches)  
Y-you…have…weapons of ma--

DELIBERATA  
Yes, and if the Autobots refuse us access to the crystal mines, we will use our newfound technology and wipe this planet's surface clean of its unworthy inhabitants.

Blitzwing has gained enough assurance, after witnessing Starscream's example, that simple questioning will not threaten his life and he decides to join in the conversation.

ICY BLITZWING  
(with cowering)  
Von't zat destroy ze minez az vell?

Blackarachnia leans toward the triple-changer, speaking only in earshot of him and the other Decepticons

BLACKARACHNIA  
The mines are underground…they just said 'wipe this planet's surface clean'.

SHOCKWAVE  
(chiming in apprehensively but curiously)  
What is stopping you from unleashing your weapon now and taking the mines for yourself?

DELIBERATA  
Because every sentient being deserves the right to chose between a life of slavery and certain oblivion.

More silence falls over the arena.

DELIBERATA  
We need able-chassis to work the mines once we acquire it. Surely some of you value your spark over your dignity.

Megatron's scowl deepens at the mere suggestion of returning to the sorry existence of a crystal miner.

DELIBERATA  
It is not in our best interest to cause a mass extinction of Cybertron, but if you or the Autobots push us to that extreme, we will do it. There are plenty of less resistant and potentially grateful beings in the universe who are capable of working your mines.

Starscream is not pleased with the options. He is too brilliant to be a crystal miner and far too valuable to be offline. Times like these always bring out the best (worst) in Starscream, and rather than back away with his ailerons between his legs, he falls back on the one thing he is a master of. Treachery.

STARSCREAM  
(stepping away from the other Decepticons)  
What if there was a Cybertronian who could provide you with a limitless source of energon?

Megatron thought it impossible to get angrier, but this statement proved him wrong. His blazing crimson optics impale the seeker with a near spark-extinguishing glare and his ventilations increase dangerously, every loose bolt in his chassis rattling in response.

DELIBERATA  
(with skeptical interest)  
I am not fond of guessing games, seeker. Either state your purpose or stop wasting my time.

Starscream dares to look over the expressions on his comrades' faces, all of them but Megatron's that is. He can't bear it. Blackarachnia's mix of disgust and heartbreak is enough to give him second thoughts, but Megatron's volcanic glare could very well stunt his plan of action. He looks back up to the mystery ship and steps farther away from the Decepticons.

STARSCREAM  
(voice wavering)  
I know a formula--

BLACKARACHNIA  
(panicked)  
Starscream, no!

STARSCREAM  
(straining to ignore the predacon)  
A means to convert organic material into energon.

Megatron, now fuming, drops the energon converter to the ground and crushes it under foot, his menacing glare never once averting from his betrayer.

Starscream caught the action from the corner of his optics. He shudders with a guilt he's never felt, but stays focused on the threat above. He stands silently for moment that felt like an eternity.

STARSCREAM  
(voice pitched uncharacteristically low)  
Spare me a demeaning fate…(drops his head) and I will build you a large-scale energon converter.

That statement is the last straw for Megatron. He pulls both swords from his back with a vicious growl and charges at Starscream, forcefully pushing the other Decepticons from his b-lining path to the traitor. Starscream steps back with cowardice, preparing to take the wrath but a massive laser beam fires down from the sky, scorching the ground directly in front of Megatron. The former gladiator halts then takes a step back. The beam travels across Megatron's leg, burning through his metal plating and nearly severing the mighty limb at the knee. Megatron roars in agony and frustration and stumbles down to his uninjured knee.

DELIBERATA  
Let that prove as a minor example to what will happen to any of you who act out in defiance or attempt to escape the arena.

Before the 'cons can properly react to their fallen leader, another beam shoots down from the sky and engulfs Starscream. Within seconds, the glowing image of the defiant seeker dematerializes and the beam retracts back up to the assumed ship. Everyone looks to the screens for answers but the Quintesson's image fades to black, leaving the arena in silence once again.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(utterly shocked and confused)  
What happened to him!?

Lugnut kneels down and extends a claw to help his leader.

LUGNUT  
(bitterly snaps at Blackarachnia)  
Who cares! (shifting focus to Megatron) Master…c-can you stand up?

SHOCKWAVE  
I would assume he has been warped onto their ship.

HOTHEAD BLIZTWING  
(infuriated)  
I hope zhey rip him apart piece by piece zen toss his remains back down here for me to crush wis my bare hands!

BLACKARACHNIA  
(heartbroken)  
How could he do this to us?

Megatron shuns Lugnut's helps and plants his swords into the ground, using them as a support to stand up on his good leg. He raises both swords over his head then, with a raging grunt, forcefully impales the ground with them, leaving them standing in the shape of an 'X'.

MEGATRON  
(voice wavering in maddening anger)  
Because, Blackarachnia, he is and always will be a traitorous piece of filth.

Megatron turns away and limps off the arena floor. He disappears behind a side door, leaving the Decepticons to apparently fend for themselves. Lugnut stands dumbfounded while Blitzwing continues to fume with his Hothead face. Blackarachnia looks to Shockwave for a shred of direction but the intel bot can only return a blank stare.

BLACKARACHNIA  
He wouldn't do this to us, Shockwave. Not now…not with--

SHOCKWAVE  
(finally showing signs of emotion, namely irritation)  
With what? A highly unlikely rebirth of morality? His actions do not surprise me in the slightest. If you had been around during the war and witnessed his behavior then, this would come as no surprise to you.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(defensive)  
I've been around long enough to see a change in him.

SHOCKWAVE  
You let yourself be fooled because you wanted to see the good in him. (turns away in disgust)…I am also a fool for not predicting this earlier. He has probably been cooperating with the Quintessons for some time now…which leads me to wonder.

ICY BLITZWING  
Do you sink Chromia iz in on it az vell?

Shockwave lingers quietly in calculating thought but is then distracted by the approaching green-striped predacon. Waspinator eyes Megatron's swords curiously, reaching his claws out to wrap around the handle on one. Lugnut promptly backhands the disrespectful stranger, sending him hurdling several feet then crashing to the ground.

LUGNUT  
Nobody touches our master's swords unless they wish to challenge him.

WASPINATOR  
(rubbing his aft with a disgruntled buzz)  
Wazzpinator not afraid of challenge. (he staggers to his feet) Wazzpinator take revenge for interruption of fight.

Lugnut storms up to the blasphemous bug, all five optics locked disgustedly on the creature's Decepticon symbol.

LUGNUT  
You are not worthy of our insignia. Who gave it to you!?

Waspinator sizes up the former arena champion, recognizing him from the archived photos, then cowers slightly as the mech's reputation becomes clear to him. He peaks around the Kaon Krushers's massive form and points a claw at Blackarachnia.

WASPINATOR  
She give it to Wazzpinator…(the sight of her ignites his grudge) after she turn Wazzpinator into a freak!

BLACKARACHNIA  
(standing her ground)  
You were a freak before I ever met you! I did you a favor and gave you powers beyond that of your Autobot form.

Waspinator buzzes angrily and attempts to advance on her but is blocked by Lugnut's claw. He glares at the giant but continues his verbal assault on the femme.

WASPINATOR  
Juzztify it all you want, zpiderbot, but we both know Wazzpinator's intereztz were not yourzz! Zpiderbot never should have double-crozzed Wazzpinator, but zpiderbot ezzpezially should have never double-crozzed dealerbot. Wazzpinator zuggezt zpiderbot watch her back.

The Deceptions look to Blackarachnia with questioning.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
What's he talking about!? Did you give Svindle a reason to betray our faction?

Blackarachnia stands in guilty silence, looking over the optics that are locked curiously on her. She has little regret for her actions against Swindle and doubts her colleagues would have behaved much different in her situation. Her betrayal to the faction is nothing in comparison to the horrendous treachery that just took place. Her thoughts wander to her confrontation with Swindle, remembering how desperately she wanted that All Spark shard. She thinks about the resurrection and of Starscream then glances down at the wreckage that was her partner's precious invention.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(bitterly)  
My actions against Swindle are hardly worthy of warranting (gestures upward) all this. He's likely been in bed with the Quints from the get go. Our precious little spy bot probably is too. It's no doubt one big traitorous Decepticon party up there now!

Shockwave is not pleased with her accusations of his protégé and he decides to determine the double-agent's loyalty with a simple comm call.

SHOCKWAVE  
(into comm)  
Chromia, come in.

Blackarachnia is relieved to see her comrades' focus move off her and onto Shockwave. She kneels down next to the converter and retrieves the All Spark fragment from its wreckage. She discretely slides it into her side pouch but continues to fumble with the converter as if confronting its symbolism with grief; a charade which takes very little acting on her part.

Chromia isn't responding and Blitzwing quickly bores of the apparently fruitless comm call. He darts his attention around the arena, searching for an absent undecided whom he would like to direct his frustration at.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
Where did zat miserable bounty hunter go?

**ABOVE KAON - QUINTESSON WARSHIP**

Starscream struggles against the tentacles wrapped tightly around each of his limbs. The instant he materialized into the small room, the things came streaming out of the walls and ceiling and prevented him from taking a single step. He didn't expect a formal greeting from the aliens and it was no surprise that they continued to hide behind their defenses, but this assault seemed a bit over zealous. Directly overhead there is a screen on the wall, and it took only a moment for the three Quintesson's image to appear on that screen.

DELIBERATA  
(obnoxiously pompous)  
Swindle informs us you have a history of betraying your faction…and I'll admit to hearing your name mentioned numerous times during discussions of infamous incidences of insubordination.

STARSCREAM  
(still struggling, voice strained)  
I'm flattered.

DELIBERATA  
If your own faction cannot even trust you then how do expect us to?

STARSCREAM  
(regretfully lowering his pride)  
Because you are the ones in power and I am obviously defenseless.

The Quintesson Leader pauses a moment, trying to decipher the seeker's sincerity.

DELIBERATA  
You realize we could use you merely for extracting said formula then send you back down below to have your fate determined by your…fellow Decepticons.

The idea sends chills down the jet's back but he quickly stifles his fears, standing firm on the unique advantage his altered processor has given him.

STARSCREAM  
The formula alone isn't enough for you. You won't understand its complexity. You need to me. I am the only one who can put it to use in a conversion mechanism.

DELIBERATA  
(gesturing behind him)  
Brinn here is a remarkable scientist, mastering not only in our race's technologies but in Cybertronian engineering as well.

STARSCREAM  
(unimpressed)  
But what does he know of organic chemistry?

Brinn switches from his Judgment to Wisdom face, which doesn't appear to offer much wisdom on the subject of organics. Deliberata grumbles as he returns focus to his prisoner.

DELIBERATA  
Why makes you think we need another source of energon? The mines will provide more energon then we could use in a thousand lifetimes.

STARSCREAM  
Are you controlling the mines right now?

The Quintessons all switch to their Angry face. Starscream ceases his struggling to deliver his next flood of convincing.

STARSCREAM  
Let me build a large-scale converter for you and you will have more than enough energon to counter any attack against you, without resorting to the WMD. I simply request, for your own sake as well, that you keep me out of the mines and in your ranks. You'll need me to maintain the converter's upkeep. Also, when the time comes for your collection and conversion of Cybertron's crystals, my experience with conversion technology will be most valuable to you.

The Quintessons murmur amongst themselves again, faces switching and tentacles waving in a variety of expressions. Starscream strains to interpret their gestures, leaning closer to the screen only to be yanked back by the seemingly alive defenses. The tentacles unwrap from his legs, then slither menacingly around his wings and start squeezing until the metal buckles and the seams split. Starscream screeches in shock, writhing and gritting his teeth as the squeezing tightens and maddening pain jolts through his entire body.

STARSCREAM  
(shrieking)  
Why…are you…doing this!?

Just when the excruciating assault to his most sensitive of body parts couldn't get any worse, the tentacles release him and he drops to his hands and knees. He hangs his head, his ventilations intense as the pain throbs viciously through his wings. No response comes from his attackers, so he lifts a bitter expression to the screen. He instantly wishes he didn't because the three, with their repulsive pomp, simply watch him with delight.

DELIBERATA  
(War face smiling)  
Just a demonstration of what we're capable of. This entire ship is equipped with the same defenses, including the science lab, which from here on out, will be your new home.

Starscream sits back on his heels, body hunched as the pain lingers. He watches the screen go black then vents a sigh worth a lifetime of tense moments. He hangs his head again, optics wide open, processor racing. Treachery was not an easy game. Behind the grin of every previous backstabbing stunt against Megatron, a tiny piece of his spark dimmed, but this time is different; brutally different. This stunt is undeniably the most spark-devouring betrayal of his long, colorfully self-serving history.

**IACON - ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS - CHROMIA'S ROOM**

The winged double-agent sits at the edge of her berth, head buried in one hand, teeth grinding in stress. Shockwave's familiar flat vocals drum from her comm, reporting the current events.

SHOCKWAVE  
…we cannot attempt an escape. They are able to monitor our every move.

CHROMIA  
(pinching the bridge of her nose)  
And Swindle's involved you say?

SHOCKWAVE  
That is correct. I am surprised he has undertaken such alliances without notifying you of his actions. I thought the two of you shared a bond.

CHROMIA  
We were created at the same time by the same slime-of-the-universe aliens, but we never developed any kind of bonds…not to them or each other. Bonding is not in our programming which is why it completely baffles me that he's working for them again. I wonder if they're forcing him.

SHOCKWAVE  
I doubt it. As I stated, they have remarkably advanced weaponry and he is an amoral weapons dealer. I'm sure he has much to gain.

CHROMIA  
(venting a long sigh of frustration)  
Where's Megatron?

SHOCKWAVE  
He is…unavailable.

The vague response causes her to tense with worry.

CHROMIA  
Wh-- What do you mean by that? Shockwave, please. Is he okay?

SHOCKWAVE  
He is functioning…I must end this transmission now, Chromia, I do not want to risk an interception from the Quintessons.

CHROMIA  
(desperate)  
Shockwave, wait!

SHOCKWAVE  
I am relieved to hear you are still one of us. Shockwave out.

The transmission cuts out, fueling the femme's frustration. She rises up and stomps around her quarters, muttering a string of spark-extinguishing curses, most of it directed at Swindle but some referring to Shockwave's typically unreadable lack of vocal intonation. She breaks to tap her comm back on and ramps up to resume venting at the bot whom she is calling.

SWINDLE  
(answering with predictable and irritating mirth)  
Heya doll, what can I do for--

CHROMIA  
(fuming)  
You depraved piece of Primus-fragged scrap metal!

SWINDLE  
(laughing)  
Wha-hoa sweetheart, cool your jets. Whattya, lookin' in a mirror?

CHROMIA  
(ignoring his mockery)  
How could you let this happen!?

SWINDLE  
I couldn't stop it if I wanted to. The Quints are big now, darling, and I mean big…huge! Only a raving fool would pass up the opportunity to hop on their bandwagon. I was trying to rope you in earlier--

CHROMIA  
(insulted)  
I would never work for them again! They're disgusting…degenerates!

SWINDLE  
(dripping in sarcasm)  
And Megatron is the poster sparkling of nobility.

CHROMIA  
(optics widen)  
Megatron is a symbol of power and perseverance. He has standards and codes of conduct.

SWINDLE  
Spare me your baseless fantasies. If he's so powerful, why has he pathetically locked himself away in the bowels of the arena?

CHROMIA  
You're lying!

SWINDLE  
Quite the contrary. Megatron's nothing but a burnt out wash-up who, once again, let his pride cloud his judgment. He should've handed his leadership to Starscream eons ago. I guarantee had he done so, the fraggin' 'cons would be much better off now.

CHROMIA  
(pushed to her limits of toleration)  
Bite…your tongue…And where do you get off speaking of your alleged faction as if you're not apart of them? Does that symbol on your chest mean nothing to you!?

SWINDLE  
(bursts into laughter again)  
You're killing me with irony, doll. Have you forgotten that cute little red face attached to your neckpiece?

CHROMIA  
That is different and you know it! I joined the Autobots as a means to survive because you left me broke and stranded with Kaon's pathetic stragglers.

SWINDLE  
Awwww, come on now. I thought you forgave me for that.

CHROMIA  
(viciously)  
Not anymore!…(she takes a few moments to absorb the facts at hand then forces herself to cool down a notch). Where's Starscream? Have you talked to him? Does he have access to his comm?

SWINDLE  
Doubtful. The Quints put him to work right away. Got him shut up in the lab and monitoring his every ventilation. He won't be making or taking any comm calls soon and besides, what could you possibly have to say to him?

CHROMIA  
(clenching her fists)  
Oh, I have a few unsavory words selected just for him.

SWINDLE  
Face it, Chromia, the 'cons are history. The Autobots are too. You stick with either of them and you'll share their fate.

Her face pinches with insult and worry at what is predictably coming next.

SWINDLE  
(best salesman voice)  
Join us, doll. You are in a very unique and fortunate situation. Be our double-agent. It's that or a life of slavery and I know that's not your bag. Join us and I guarantee, the squids will be grateful to have you on the bandwagon again.

His words sicken her. She sits back down on the berth, dropping her head into her hands.

CHROMIA  
(hopeless)  
And then what, Swindle? What happens to us after they take the mines? They don't need us. They've never needed us. We were simply tools. You can't guarantee our safety. You can't guarantee scrap!

SWINDLE  
(uneasiness starting to break through the charade)  
Be-because they love us. You and I are special to 'em. We got a history. They can't-- They can't deny that.

CHROMIA  
(unconvinced)  
You're delusional.

SWINDLE  
So are you if you think there's a better option. At least tell me you'll think about it. In fact, don't bother…I already know that you are. I know you too well Chromia and I see right through you. Megatron is only a symbol of what you desire. You have no loyalty to him. You simply crave to dangle on the arm of power. Well…here's your chance, only it's not an arm, it's a tentacle. Choice is yours, doll. I don't need to repeat what's at stake.

She sits quietly, head still captured in her hands. The thought of Megatron defeated again is too much to bear; too disheartening. A flood of questions rush through her processor. Has she really banked all her hopes on a failure? Has everything she's worked toward only led her back to her oppressive creators? Why is Swindle so eager to help them? Does he not remember how unfairly the two of them were treated? The memories gouge mercilessly at her dignity, forcing her thoughts, purely out of survival instinct, to shift back to Megatron. He is always her light at the end of the tunnel and she refuses to accept his defeat, especially not to those lousy squids and that notorious snake, Starscream. Megatron wouldn't go down without a fight. He must be planning something.

SWINDLE  
What's it gonna be, Chromia. I can't wait around all orbital cycle, I got an arena to run.

CHROMIA  
(emotionless)  
I'm in…Tell the squids, they just got themselves a double-agent.

SWINDLE  
Excellent decision. Wow, doll face, I thought I'd have to break out my big guns to sell you on this. Guess your devotion to the mighty Megatron isn't so concrete when he's not so mighty--

CHROMIA  
(scowls in nausea)  
Frag off!

She closes the frequency and mutters her annoyance.

CHROMIA  
Stupid son-of-a-glitch.

After a couple self assuring ventilations, she rises from the berth, tapping a new frequency into her comm.

CHROMIA  
Sentinel Magnus, when is Optimus Prime's team due to arrive?

SENTINEL  
Within the mega-cycle. Would you like to join me in greeting them at the space bridge?

CHROMIA  
Yes sir, very much so.

**EARTH - SUMDAC TOWER - SPACE BRIDGE**

Team Rodimus, not easily disheartened and eager to continue the hunt for the Decepticons, returned to Cybertron immediately after the failed mission. Optimus promised his fellow prime that he would follow suit, but that he needed a day to discuss it with his team. He wasn't sure if they would vote in favor of leaving Prowl behind; he himself was hardly willing to make such a decision, but all his Autobots, with very little coaxing, understood the responsibility of their Autobot duty. The majority of them concluded it was exactly what Prowl, the real Prowl, would want them to do. There was only one Autobot who didn't agree with this course of action.

Optimus Prime stands with what remains of his team on the space bridge platform. He looks down upon the teenage girl, who's standing with her father. Her tearful glare of disappointment stabs his spark, but he knows what he needs to do and only hopes she will eventually understand.

SARI  
How can you do this, Prime!? Don't you even care about Prowl? He needs us! We need to find him!

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(trying to talk in his 'leader' tone of voice)  
He doesn't want to be found, Sari. We've been over this.

Bumblebee looks regretfully down to the girl, spark aching at the idea of separating from her.

BUMBLEBEE  
He's right, Sari. And if Prowl doesn't want to be found, there's no way we're gonna find him, what with his stealthy ninja--

SARI  
(shouting in protest)  
We gotta at least try!

Professor Sumdac attempts to console his anguished daughter but she jerks away from the loving reach.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(voice softening)  
Once we've captured the Decepticons, I promise to do everything in my power to get Prowl back…(he pauses, ready to second guess his decision to leave then quickly stifles the urge and regains his stern tone) But Cybertron needs us now. The odd disturbances and energy readings coming from Kaon are too big to ignore. If the 'cons have already mobilized for an attack, I want to be there to take them down.

SARI  
(not convinced)  
But…(speaking with flailing arm gestures) they have the entire freaking army to handle that! What difference are you four gonna make!?

Her uncharacteristic pessimism slaps the medibot with surprise and irritation.

RATCHET  
(snapping at Sari)  
The same difference a single cyber ninja made against a siege of Omega Supreme clones!

The other Autobots wince at the painful memory. Sari drops her head, unable to contain her sobs of frustration. Her tears stream through the fingers clasped over her eyes and Ratchet instantly regrets his harsh tone.

BULKHEAD  
(chiming in with his ever-gentle way)  
I think what Ratchet meant to say is, we're doing exactly what Prowl…er, the Prowl I know, would want us to do.

RATCHET  
(softening his voice)  
Exactly. Listen, kid, my point…and I know you of all Autobots know this…

She raises her head at the mention of being considered an Autobot. She can barely see through her cloudy tears the medibot's genuine expression, but she can hear it in his voice.

RATCHET  
(continuing)  
…is how much difference a single spark can make.

Jazz places a reaffirming hand on Ratchet's shoulder and joins in the efforts to console the girl.

JAZZ  
Ol' bot's right ya know. Every spark counts, including yours. Now, if you're not gonna groove with us to the Cybs, then I suggest you, the prof, the DPD and any other cat that respect's Prowl's vibe, start scanning the city for his mixed up self. My bro's smooth and he won't be easy to find, but he's frettin' with some bad tunes and it's no doubt hinderin' his cyber ninja gig.

Sari shakes her head questionably.

SARI  
I-- I don't understand.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
He's saying Prowl won't be able to keep a steady mask on his energy signal, which means, the second you detect it, it's up to you to track him.

Sentinel's voice cuts in through Optimus' comm.

SENTINEL  
Optimus. You and your team ready?

OPTIMUS  
(into comm.)  
Yes, Sentinel Magnus. Just give us a couple cycles. (he pauses the call and focuses back down to Sari) I care about Prowl as much as you do, Sari and I promise you, when all this is over, and if you haven't yet found him, I will return and together, we will bring him home.

The primes words finally show signs of sinking into the girl.

BUMBLEBEE  
(chiming in with his undying optimism)  
But you won't need to bossbot, because she'll have done the job. When we get back, I expect to see the two of them veggin' on the couch, watchin' nature shows and talkin' smack about how bad I suck at that right-hand-on-yellow, left-foot-on-blue game.

Sari can't help giggle at the image and how wonderful it would be if she could make it happen. She never considered searching for Prowl on her own because she expected Optimus would shoot down such a suggestion. The girl is pleased to be proven wrong and fills with a renewed confidence. She blinks away some tears and looks gratefully upon her towering teammates, stopping her gaze upon the little yellow ray of sunshine that is her best friend.

SARI  
(smiling though tears)  
You guys be careful, okay. I expect regular updates and nobody better even think about sacrificing their spark this time, not without talking to me first.

BULKHEAD  
(surprised and confused)  
You'd…let one of us give up our spark?

SARI  
No, silly! I would scream and yell the idea right outta your thick processor!

BULKHEAD  
(relieved)  
Oh, okay. That makes sense.

Optimus Prime smiles as he signals Professor Sumdac to start up the space bridge. It never ceases to amaze him how tight the bonds are between his team and he's reminded once again how lucky he his to have them. His spark fills with hope; a taunting hope, one he's afraid to acknowledge because it sings of the same hope he felt when a ghostly cyber ninja form pulled him from the devastating blast of the final Omega Clone. His empowered mood downshifts a gear, leaving him introspective. The image that appears in his mind isn't the ghostly blue visage of his savior however, it's only a piece of it; a piece clearly distinguishable, with its vivid black and gold designs, as a past hero's helmet.


	22. Burden of Betrayal

_A/N: Strangely enough, this chapter gave my beta readers a strong aversion to Swindle and the Quintessons. =P  
_

_Time measurements:_

_cycle - minute  
mega cycle - hour  
solar cycle - day_

* * *

**QUINTESSON WARSHIP - LABORATORY**

Starscream is seated at the lab table, laying face down in desperately-needed recharge. His arms have been stripped of the null ray cannons and his wings are wrapped tightly in electrified cables. There's an impressive machine behind him, bearing similar qualities to the original energon converter, but scaled up considerably in size.

Brinn, the scientifically inclined Quintesson, bursts into the room sporting his Anger face. He expects the sound of the door to snap the seeker out of his stasis, but Starscream doesn't budge. Brinn grabs the edges of the table with two of his many tentacles and shakes it violently.

BRINN  
Wake up, slave!

Starscream groans and slowly lifts his head up in irritation. The sight of a blurry Brinn at the other end of the table quickly reminds the seeker of his reality and he drops his head back down, burying it in his arms.

BRINN  
(switching to War face)  
What is the meaning of this? We did not give you permission to take a break!

STARSCREAM  
(voice muffled, head still buried)  
I've done all I can do with the supplies on hand…unless you can pull an All Spark fragment out of your aft, my work cannot proceed.

BRINN  
(optics blazing)  
Mind your mouth, worm…(switches to Judgment face) We have access to pieces of the All Spark.

Starscream peeks up with surprise.

STARSCREAM  
You...you do?

Brinn relaxes with a ugly grin and glides across the room to inspect the machine.

BRINN  
Of course. Swindle is quite the resource. I'll have him bring you a shard right away.

Starscream sits up, now fully attentive and trying to mask his uneasiness. He glances over his shoulder, keeping an optic on the alien behind him.

STARSCREAM  
(processor kicking up a notch)  
But I need more than just a shard. I need organic material to run the preliminary tests…We need to send a cruiser to Archa Seven and collect--

BRINN  
(interrupting)  
We are not going anywhere…(glides back to the table, breaching Starscream's comfort zone with an attempt at intimidation) How much organic material do you need for these tests?

STARSCREAM  
(leaning away from the creature)  
Um…a considerable amount. And you don't have to go anywhere, I'll travel to--

BRINN  
(grabs the seeker's chin with a firm tentacle)  
You are not going anywhere either! (smiles deviously) We have a small supply of organic material below, in the arena.

Starscream cringes in disgust as the tentacle remains wrapped tightly on his chin and Brinn pulls uncomfortably closer.

STARSCREAM  
(wincing)  
What kind? What planet is it from?

BRINN  
(enjoying the seeker's discomfort)  
This one…and Earth.

Starscream's optics widen as the image of his predacon partner comes to mind. He's about to speak out in protest but Brinn cuts him off.

BRINN

(basking in the seeker's uneasy state)  
I hope Swindle isn't too attached to his freak-of-a-prize fighter. (does the Quintesson equivalent of a shoulder shrug) I'm sure he'll find a suitable replacement.

The pompous alien releases Starscream's face and drifts away toward the door. The seeker is relieved to be spared of any more fondling but remains uneasy at the thought using that poor stupid 'Wasp' creature as a guinea pig.

STARSCREAM  
(growing nauseous)  
You want me to use a living being as test material?

BRINN  
(activating his comm)  
Swindle, come in.

Brinn opens the door but turns to say some parting commands to the seeker.

BRINN  
You'll have a mega-cycle at the most to finish your recharge before I return with the shard and the freak, but do not let me catch you recharging without permission again. Time is valuable, slave, and your time belongs to us now, (switches to Death face) so I suggest you make the most of it.

The door slams shut and the auto locks click loudly into place. Starscream drops his head back onto the table, too exhausted in the moment to do anything but take his captor's advice.

Brinn continues down the hallway, switching back to Anger and awaiting the dealer's response impatiently.

BRINN  
(shouting into comm)  
Answer me, slave!

SWINDLE  
(surprisingly non-salesman tone of voice)  
Come on now, no need for name calling.

BRINN  
Silence! I have a task for you and I want it completed immediately.

SWINDLE  
(with a sigh a dropped pitch of voice)  
Name it.

BRINN  
Bring your bugbot to the arena floor.

SWINDLE  
(skeptical)  
What for?

BRINN  
Do not…question me. (relaxing a notch, switching to Wisdom) Just bring the predacon within range of our transport beam.

SWINDLE  
(pauses a scheming moment, then responds with sheer insincerity)  
Predacon…gotcha. Anything else?

BRINN  
Yes…We need one of your All Spark fragments.

**KAON - GLADIATORIAL ARENA - VIP BOOTH**

SWINDLE  
(into comm with sarcasm)  
Oh, is that all? What makes you so sure I have any?

Brinn doesn't respond. All Swindle can here is abrupt face switching, which clearly answers the dealer's question.

SWINDLE  
Alright, alright…relax, I'll get it to ya…just gimme a mega-cycle or two on that one.

He closes the call and grumbles in annoyance as he exits the room.

SWINDLE  
(muttering to himself)  
Slaggin' squids. Might as well just hand 'em my spark on a silver platter with my dignity as a bonus gift; all guaranteed with a lifetime warranty and personalized message reading, "shove your tentacles up your glowing afts and get the frag off my planet".

He makes his way down the hall, following the echoing mumbles coming from the concession station. As he rounds the corner, a Decepticon gathering comes into view.

Lugnut, Icy Blitzwing and Blackarachnia are loitering around, raiding the concession stand of its energon goodies. Swindle didn't expect his presence to be welcomed by the bitter group, but he puts on his best grin regardless and gingerly approaches them.

Blitzwing is the first to see him and predictably switches to Hothead. He hops off the counter and hurls his box of snacks at the dealer. Swindle attempts to dodge the attack but inevitably takes a few goodies to the face and accepts it with necessary humility. The triple changer, only just warming up to his intended assault, dives into tank mode and revs his engines menacingly.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
You dirty double-crozzer! I vill flaten zat grin under my treads zen do it again until it iz a frown (switching to Random)…and zen I vill hang you upzide down so you are zmiling again. You know vhat zey zay, turn zat frown upzide--

BLACKARACHNIA  
(snapping at the triple-changer)  
Blitzwing, heel!…Let's at least hear him out.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
Vhy should vee?

Lugnut forcefully grips the tank's gun barrel and wrenches his comrade to point away from the dealer.

LUGNUT  
Because you fool, the warship backing him up will flatten you into a history lesson.

Blitzwing pops into robot mode, Icy face whirring into place.

ICY BLITZWING  
Oh.

SWINDLE  
(relaxing now that the hostilities have died down)  
Why Blackarachnia, I'm flattered you've changed your tune toward me.

The predacon scowls as she tosses the dealer a pink glowing nugget.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(not quite sincere)  
Have a goodie…I owe ya that much.

Swindle strolls up to her and hops up next to her on the counter, tossing the snack into his permanent gaping smile.

SWINDLE  
Nonsense sweetheart, we're even. You took my All Spark shard, my employers took your freedom.

BLACKARACHNIA  
It's your freedom too ya know.

SWINDLE  
(shrugging indifferently)  
They're my creators. What's a mech gonna do?

LUGNUT  
(shoves a threatening claw into the dealer's chest)  
You should be serving Megatron as long as you wear that symbol.

SWINDLE  
(slightly intimidated)  
See, the problem with that is…Quints got the power and Megatron…well, where is he right now?

LUGNUT  
(confidently)  
Megatron will return!

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
(getting in Lugnut's face)  
Can it, you broken frequenzy! Our leader haz abandoned uz!

LUGNUT  
(rising to the challenge)  
No, you are wrong!

The hulking mech slams Blitzwing into the wall, his claws pinching the triple changer's neck.

LUGNUT  
Take back what you said, infidel. (he leans in closer, all five optics blazing) Now! Before I make you eat your words.

RANDOM BLITZWING  
(blissfully condescending)  
Ooohh-he-he-he, I'm not zure I'm ready to take our relationship to zis level yet.

Lugnut roars and throws the jokester across the seating area, then promptly stomps after him, huffing and growling. Blackarachnia can only shake her head in embarrassment as she watches them through splayed claws.

SWINDLE  
(not missing a beat)  
'Cons are coming undone, sweetheart…loyalty to faction is a thing of the past.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(still uninterested)  
And…here comes the sales pitch.

SWINDLE

(lightly elbows the femme)  
Take a walk with me, doll. (gestures to the wrestling mechs) These two obviously need some alone time.

Blackarachnia wouldn't normally consider giving this traitor the time of day, but considering the possible grudge he has against her, she figures it best, for her own safety, to do what he says. They slide down off the counter and stroll toward the stadium seating.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(looks on him with a mix of revulsion and pity)  
How long have you been working for them?

SWINDLE  
(surprisingly sincere)  
Not long actually. (waves his hand out as if presenting the surrounding architecture) I had every intention of running this joint on my own…then they just showed up. (shrugs with attempted innocence) Didn't gimme much choice in the matter.

They meander down the steps, slowly passing each row of seats. Blackarachnia beholds the arena grounds, noting the burnt ground where the Death's Head carcass used to be. The Quintessons had it hauled to the salvage yard where it has no doubt been picked cleaned by the vultures populating the city. Her spark sinks for the bounty hunter and she can only hope he escaped safely and has the merit to report the invasion to the Autobots. Her spark sinks even more at the sight of the crushed energon converter, still sitting next to Megatron's swords, which no one has dared even go near. The declarative symbol is not an open invitation to any ol'mech who feels brave or stupid enough to take on the former gladiator. It is explicitly intended for a single, defining dual with a notoriously unpredictable traitor; an image that sends a shudder through the spider's body.

The dealer grows quickly bored by the femme's introspective silence.

SWINDLE  
(apathetic)  
What's your story? You full-sparked Decepticon now or woulda go back to the Autobots if given the chance?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(speaking softly after an annoyed pause)  
I'd rather not discuss that with you. (promptly changing subjects) Have you talked to…Starscream?

SWINDLE  
(answering truthfully)  
I haven't yet, but I've been meaning to. They're working him pretty hard…makin' him earn his keep.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(with a deep scowl)  
That snake…I can't believe he's actually helping them. (lifts her head to give the dealer a stern look) Will you deliver a message for me?

They reach the ground level and Swindle stops to tap on his comm link.

SWINDLE  
Tell ya what, doll. (lowers his voice into his comm) Gotcher pred here. (switches his attention back to her with an unreadable grin.) You can deliver it yourself.

Before she can comprehend what he means, Swindle slaps a pair of stasis cuffs on her and a large beam emerges from the sky, engulfing her.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(screaming in shock)  
NO! Please…

Her pleading shrieks trail off as she dematerializes and is pulled up to the ghost ship.

**QUINTESSON WARSHIP**

Blackarachnia phases into the same room they initially held Starscream in, but the ship's tentacled defenses don't entangle her. She's already partially immobilized by the stasis cuffs. With a painful groan, she collapses down onto her knees, head hung weakly in phasing awareness. Brinn enters the room within the cycle and immediately becomes furious at the sight of her.

BRINN  
(opening a comm call and switching to Anger face)  
This is not the creature I asked you for.

SWINDLE  
(playing innocent)  
You said predacon.

BRINN  
The bug, not the femme!

SWINDLE  
She is a bug…well, technically an arachnid--

BRINN  
Silence you incompetent whelp!…Is she organic?

SWINDLE  
Partly…(relenting to a little stretch of truth) Actually more so than my prize fighter. I believe her chassis is--

BRINN  
Enough!…You are walking a fine line--

Deliberata intervenes on their call.

DELIBERATA  
Brinn, we detected an All Spark fragment hidden on the predacon.

SWINDLE  
(optimistic)  
See, it all worked out--

Both Quintessons tell the dealer in unison --and quite rudely-- to quiet down.

DELIBERATA  
Swindle, your failure to explicitly follow orders will be excused just this once. Any more attempts of duplicity and you will find yourself in chains and wielding a miner's pick…(his spreading smile can practically be heard) I guarantee it.

After an awkward silence, Swindle cuts his frequency without uttering a word; a very un-Swindle-like thing to do.

DELIBERATA  
(dismissive of the dealer)  
Brinn, deliver the creature and the shard to our slave.

BRINN  
But Master, her presence may invoke some hostility and the lab is not equipped with--

DELIBERATA  
(interrupting)  
Our defenses are more than adequate! (Brinn hears the sound of a face switch) Your cowardice disappoints me, Brinn…Perhaps I should send Sevax to do the job for you.

BRINN  
(Anger face lit hotly)  
You will do no such thing! (taking a moment to cool down but still keeping the Anger face) I will take care of it. Brinn out.

The Quintesson takes a moment to regain his composure and switches to his Judgment face, figuring it a nice balance between intimidating and controlled. He wraps a couple tentacles around the predacon's arms, pulling her to her feet and dragging her toward the door.

She gradually comes to as they travel down the corridor, and she beholds the alien surroundings with a growing fear. They approach the lab and the door whizzes open; the noise of their arrival pulls Starscream from his recharge. The seeker's optics, barely online, brighten in shock when he sees the alien's captive is a not a green blur but instead a black and purple one.

BRINN  
Here is your requested materials.

Brinn releases the femme, letting her drop to a heap on the floor.

STARSCREAM  
(jumps from his chair with heated protest)  
This is not the predacon I asked for!

BRINN  
(Angry faced triggered)  
You will work with what we give you!

Brinn curses himself for losing his temper so quickly then regains his Judgment face. He peers down at the femme and slithers a tentacle up her leg. Starscream advances with wavering valiance upon seeing this. The tentacle stops at her side pouch, flipping the top open and retrieving her stowed All Spark fragment. Brinn abruptly tosses the shard to Starscream who was about to attack but halted when forced to catch the item.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(aware but very weak)  
How…did you know that was…

Brinn returns his tentacle to the femme, lifting her chin as a couple more tentacles creep onto her thighs and hips.

BRINN  
(condescending)  
We have these cute little toys called 'trackers'.

Starscream launches his foot into the alien, kicking him through the doorway into the hall then slamming the 'close' button with his enraged fist. The swishing doors cut off the Quintesson's revolted curses and Starscream immediately shifts his attention to the ceiling anticipating an attack from the ship's defenses. He's instead attacked from the ground as Blackarachnia kicks his feet out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor, practically on top of her. Her anger fuels her ability to shift into a kneeling attack stance and impale him with her stingers. Starscream shrieks as his body surges with electrical venom. Her upper arms immediately grow a set of null ray cannons and she proceeds to use her newfound, but temporary power, to blast the stasis cuffs off her.

Starscream comes to a moment later to find the barrel of his own weapon pointed directly at his face. His optics trail up the weapon, past a spiked shoulder then onto the inevitable fanged scowl that awaits him. He should be contemplating how deserving he is of the seething hatred bearing down upon him, but he's instead distracted by the lack of tentacles streaming out from the ceiling.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(with a deep, raspy growl)  
You…pathetic…piece of back-stabbing…bottom-feeding…

STARSCREAM  
(wide optics still focused on the ceiling)  
Shhh!

Her jaw drops in disbelief, her four optics fluttering in rage.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Exc-- Excuse me? You dare shush--

She's so overwhelmed with maddening insult, the disappearance of her borrowed power goes unnoticed.

Starscream leaps up, walking straight past her and jumping upon the table to study the ceiling curiously. To his surprise and ultimate relief, he notices there are no panels for obnoxious little tentacles to come streaming out of. He smiles, his first instinct to share the news with the only other occupant of the room, but quickly finds his upper body constricted by a silken rope. He loses his balance and tumbles back down to the floor.

She huffs up to him, ventilating furiously and hunching over him. Her stingers lurch forward, merely a twitch away from his spark chamber. Starscream's pleasure at his new discovery fades quickly as the reality of her emotional state becomes clear.

STARSCREAM  
(going out on a limb)  
You…need to calm down.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(still growling)  
That's a lot to ask.

STARSCREAM  
(quick with reason)  
If they catch you attacking me, you're slagged.

BLACKARACHNIA  
They can slag me ten times over as long as I get to slag you first.

STARSCREAM  
That is not wise. They are evil and unpredictable.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(shouting)  
So are you!

Starscream's distracted by the static humming in on the monitor and quickly jerks his body to knock into her legs and throw her balance off. He breaks free from the web then grabs her from behind, pinning her arms down and holding her flush against his chest. She struggles and growls in protest but his strength is to much and she's unable to wriggle from his grasp. Two of the three Quintessons appear on the screen with a mix of Anger and War faces, Brinn of the verge of his Death face.

DELIBERATA  
(interrogative)  
Explain your attack against Brinn! And why is your constituent not wearing her stasis cuffs?

Starscream tries to focus on the screen as he being jerked around by the spiderbot's struggles.

STARSCREAM  
(processor kicking into high gear)  
He was upsetting her!…And I need her calm for the experiment to work.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(hollering)  
Let go of me you filth!

DELIBERATA  
(skeptical)  
That is not calm.

STARSCREAM  
(with suppressed scheming)  
Can you restrain her with the lab's defenses?

The three quietly grumble at this request, shifting uneasily before responding.

DELIBERATA  
We don't wish to expend our resources on your problem. You claim to be the expert on organics so find the solution on your own.

The screen goes blank.

Blackarachnia continues to struggle but her energon levels are quickly dropping due to the recent drain from the stasis cuffs. Starscream's chassis aches from exhaustion and the lingering effects of her sting, but somehow he finds enough strength to keep her constricted. Her growls turn to whimpers and she finally gives up and goes limp in his grasp.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(dropping her head in defeat)  
You're going to turn me into energon, aren't you.

STARSCREAM  
(whispering gently)  
Of course not.

Starscream's fatigue catches up to him and he slumps down to his knees, pulling her with him to the floor. He loosens his grip but his arms are still wrapped around her. He vents a gust of regret and leans his forehead into the side of her helm.

STARSCREAM  
This is not what I intended.

She squirms out of his hold and scoots away from him, looking him over with disgust.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Don't you dare touch me…and don't expect me to believe a single word out of that mutinous mouth.

Starscream doesn't respond or make eye contact; he simply keeps his head hung. He can feel her venomous optics looking him over apathetically. He's not expecting sympathy but a little conversation would be a welcome break to the longest, most regretfully unplanned two solar-cycles of his functioning. He peeks up curiously at her, holding his weapon-stripped arms out.

STARSCREAM  
(slightly impressed)  
How did you upload my null ray power?

She looks over the exposed circuitry on his upper arms and eases down a notch, almost feeling sorry for him--but not quite.

BLACKARCHNIA  
(bitterly)  
My power feeds off your programming, genius, not the weapons themselves.

Genius: he loves that title, even when spoken sarcastically.

STARSCREAM  
(with a small smirk and brief optic contact)  
Yet another perk. Your powers never cease to impress me.

Uninterested in his attempted civility, she shifts her attention to the newly-constructed and infuriatingly familiar machine behind him.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Is that the converter?

STARSCREAM  
(smirk fading away)  
Yes.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(pauses to shake her head in disgust)  
How could you do this?

He lifts his head just enough to meet her optics but decides against trying to explain himself. It would be a waste of energon to try to convince her of anything now and he needs his energon to make some unexpected alterations to the machine. He searches the room for the All Spark fragment and spies it near the door. It takes all his strength to rise to his feet and retrieve the shard. The predacon doesn't shift from her slump on the floor and simply watches him, repulsion blazing through her optics. He grabs a set of tools off the table and drudges over to the machine, his back turned to her. He opens a panel revealing a complex mesh of circuitry and goes to work embedding the shard into its place

**KAON - GLADITORIAL ARENA - LOWER LEVELS**

The lower level of the arena is designated specifically for the fighters. There are training rooms with a wide array of equipment and melee weapons, smaller rooms for taking breaks and receiving medical treatment, and…the champion's room. It is as large as the largest training room and filled with the remnants of what were once regal luxuries: top of the line weapons (now antiques), energon cube casings that used to be filled with the finest high grade and, lastly, the trophy wall. This wall used to be decorated with the decapitated heads of defeated opponents, but Kaon's desperate population picked it clean long ago and now only scattered pieces of scrap metal remain. This room is dark and quiet, with a massive lock on the door, to keep out the unwanted attention of past fanatics, but at the moment, it's only keeping out a single purple intelbot, who's been seated patiently outside the door for two solar-cycles.

At first glance inside the champion's room, it would appear unoccupied, but Shockwave knows it isn't. At just the right time of night, the star closest to Cybertron will shine its light through the single window and into a corner of the room, revealing the slumped but impressive form of an infamous champion. There's a small pool of energon on the ground, beneath the champion's leg, and reflected in that pool is a pair of intensely vibrant and carefully scheming red optics.


	23. To Hunt a Ninja

_A/N: I refuse to make my three readers wait a week to see what the Autobots are doing during the ensuing madness._

**IACON - ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS - SPACE BRIDGE**

Sentinel Magnus and Chromia watch as Optimus Prime's team materializes on the warp platform. Once the transwarp energy's sound and light show dies down, Sentinel approaches the platform and reaches his hand out to Optimus. The handshake is about as stiff and by-the-book as they come. Sentinel would rather be slagged than lose his pompous heir, but Optimus can sense an uneasiness is his old comrade. The Autobots step down from the platform and greet their Magnus with a salute.

SENTINEL  
At ease gentle bots. (turns to the femme) Chromia, scan them for any organic contaminates.

Chromia complies with a 'Yes sir' then approaches Bulkhead. Starting at his feet, she hovers a device over him and starts her scan. The device reacts to the paint splotches on his legs, causing her to look up at him with question.

BULKHEAD  
Don't worry…that stuff's harmless. It's fer…you know, paintin' pictures 'n stuff.

BUMBLEBEE  
(chiming in)  
Personally, I prefer filling those rubbery, stretchy, colorful things with it. The humans usually fill them with water, but--

The yellow bot cuts himself off when Sentinal, Optimus and Ratchet all fire him the 'now's not the appropriate time' look.

SENTINEL  
As you know, we've detected some strange readings in Kaon. The energy signature matches that of a cloaked ship, which leads us to believe the Decepticons are hiding out there.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
You said Swindle has reopened the Gladiatorial Arena?

SENTINEL  
That is correct. We caught one of our own, the veteran Brawn, voluntarily participating in the fights. (Sentinel shakes his head in disappointment). We believe him to be the spy that aided in the 'cons' prison break.

Chromia tenses as she starts her scan on Ratchet, who watches her every move with a quirked brow and classic scowl.

RATCHET  
(directed at Sentinel)  
What proof do you have of his involvement? I've known Brawn for a long time and betrayal is not in his programming.

SENTINEL  
(slightly miffed by the old bot's doubt)  
Not that I need to explain myself to you, but we have proof that--

Chromia straightens up with a salute.

CHROMIA  
(interrupting)  
Sir, permission to speak. There have been rumors about a Quintess--

SENTINEL  
(snapping at the femme)  
I don't recall giving you permission to speak!

Chromia bits her lower lip in annoyance and strains to withhold her nervous frustration. She continues the scan on Ratchet.

SENTINEL  
Back on topic…What was I talking about?

CHROMIA  
(flat)  
Kaon.

SENTINEL  
Right! We intend to send a team of cyber ninjas on a recon mission to Kaon. Jazz, despite your insubordination as of late…I'd like you to lead it. Warpath has been training a new batch of recruits in Metallikato and I think you'll find them adequately fit for the task.

JAZZ  
(slightly flattered)  
Right on, SP, I mean…Yessir.

SENTINEL  
(to Optimus)  
Have you located your missing comrade? We could certainly use his help on that mission…if he's feeling up for it that is.

Sentinel's dry ignorance pulls a wince from everyone but Chromia, who discretely lowers her head into her task.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(solemnly)  
No, sir. We…left him back on Earth…in the humans' care.

SENTINEL  
(raising a brow)  
Hmph! And you call me inconsiderate.

Everyone tenses in insult and Chromia shakes her head, flashing Sentinel a 'good one, slick' expression.

BUMBLEBEE  
(unable to keep quiet, as usual)  
What about the rest of us, sir? What do you want us to do?

Sentinel gestures for the group to follow him. Everyone leaves the room and heads down the corridor, the primes leading the pack. Sentinel attempts to convince the group, with his rambling of political fluff, that he has a solid plan. Ratchet trails behind the group, still wearing his scowl. He skeptically eyeballs the femme in front him then taps his thick finger on her shoulder.

RATCHET  
May I have a word with you?

She eases up her pace and falls back to walk alongside him, feigning an innocent curiosity.

CHROMIA  
Of course.

RATCHET  
What do you know of Quintessons? What rumors were you talking about back there?

The femme is pleased to have sparked someone's attention on the subject, but puts her processor into high gear about how to warn of the threat without revealing herself.

CHROMIA  
Umm…well…I talked to Brawn…before they arrested him. And uh…he said Swindle might be in bed with the Quints.

RATCHET  
I've heard rumors that you used to work for them.

She curses internally, ready to rip Sentinel's face off for his inability to keep a secret.

CHROMIA  
That was…(drops her head in shame) a long time ago, before I joined the academy.

Ratchet feels no sympathy.

CHROMIA  
(continuing)  
I use to work at the arena, during the war, when the Quints ran it…(looks back up to him). That is why I believe the rumors of their current involvement with it.

RATCHET  
(softening up a little)  
Suppose that would make sense. Have you shared this information with Sentinel.

CHROMIA  
(rolling her optics)  
Trust me, Ratchet, I'm trying.

Ratchet can sympathize a little with her frustration there, but hardens up again when he thinks about what he recently witnessed her doing to Prowl.

RATCHET  
(with a shifting of his ventilations)  
For medical purposes…I wanna know more about this, Spark Reading thing, specifically, I wanna know exactly what you did to Prowl…(twists his neck to invoke a -pop-) for medical reasons.

CHROMIA  
(suppressing some tension)  
Medical reasons, yeah.

She plays back the events in her mind, scanning over every detail of the encounter and settling on the fact that their Spark Reading session was totally harmless. Prowl didn't even flinch with hostility until she unleashed her wings on him and directed him too attack. She relaxes in assurance, realizing this old bot would be easy to play, especially since he, and every other Autobot is absolutely clueless about her special powers.

CHROMIA  
As you're aware, Spark Reading isn't the most reliable of psychoanalytical techniques. The methods most bots use are quite crude; a total bastardization of the true technique used by the ancients.

RATCHET  
Yes, I'm well aware the young bot's have ulterior motives besides what it's actually designed to do.

CHROMIA  
(half smiles at his implication)  
Yeah…I won't deny my appeal to it…for that reason, but I will brag that I took it further than most bots. I learned more about it than your average peacenik did and actually became rather good at it.

RATCHET  
(still skeptical)  
Didja now…then ya mind cutting to the chase and telling' me what ya did to our ninjabot?

CHROMIA  
(confident)  
I did exactly what he asked me to, which was analyze his human component…only instead of finding the…imposter, I only found Prowl's deep-seated bitterness at the Autobot faction. When I confronted him on this…we got into an argument.

The medibot freezes a moment then turns to grab her firmly by the upper arms.

RATCHET  
Why didn't you mention this before?

She beholds him with guiltily beaming, accepting his harsh reaction with humility.

CHROMIA  
(dropping her head)  
Because I was ashamed…I said something I shouldn't have…about the Council…and the Hall of--

RATCHET  
(optics lit with anger as he lightly shakes her)  
Of all the dimwitted, ram-damaged…(releases her and pinches the bridge of his nose) Gaahh, how could you…?

CHROMIA  
(with a defensive outburst)  
Because he had a right to know!

Her volume catches the attention of Bulkhead and Bumblebee, causing them to glance curiously over their shoulders.

CHROMIA  
(lowering her voice and gesturing to the bots in front of her)  
You all…hid the truth from him. Someone had to say it. I never would have said anything had I known..(looks away in shame) Had I know he'd desert you. (looks back up to medic, optics fluttering). But someone had to tell him.

Ratchet loses his scowl and hangs his head, processor drudging over the raw details just given him.

Chromia carefully analyzes his behavior, looking him over with a raised brow, then gaining empowerment by the clear signs of a bot who's been successfully played.

RATCHET  
(after a thoughtful pause)  
I won't say you did the right thing, kid…but I will say I wouldn't have done it any differently in your situation.

CHROMIA  
(with a smirk)  
Is that so?…Interesting.

RATCHET  
(quickly catching himself)  
I mean!…if the subject were to come up…not if I was…dahh, you know what I mean. (under his breath) Sheesh…can't say a word these days without someone implying somethin' kinky.

**EARTH - SUMDAC TOWER ROOF**

A teenage techno-organic sits with her chin planted on her palms and face awash in hopelessness. She had been diligently running energy scans all day in hope to catch Prowl's predicted slip up, but has yet to detect a trace of him. She hums out a long sigh and is about to give up hope when an idea strikes her like the cliché light bulb over her head. She snatches her comm radio from her hip and taps a frequency into it.

**CYBERTRON - HIGHWAY CONNECTING IACON TO KAON**

A sleek, earth-model bike cruises down the dilapidated highway. Kaon is a fair distance behind it, shrinking to passing though in the rearview mirror. The bike has no interest in that city and steered clear from it immediately after Starscream aided in his escape from the Death's Head. Prowl's focus is on the city life of Iacon, a reality offering the simple life of a single bot who only need depend on himself. His processor attempts to drift into the possibilities awaiting him there, but instead it's disrupted by a call coming through his comm. The signal is so faint, he can't trace its origin. He wonders if Starscream is contacting him again, only doing so with a masked signal for fear the other Decepticons may be tracing his call.

PROWL  
This is Prowl.

SARI  
Prowl!?

The ninja hears a gasp of disbelief. The seeker's voice is certainly high pitched, but this clearly is not Starscream.

PROWL  
(offended)  
Sari! I thought I made it very clear I did not want anyone contacti--

SARI  
(interrupting temperamentally)  
I don't give a scrap what you 'made clear'! Your processor is all messed up and you need to come home right now!

PROWL  
(irritated at the guilt forming on his spark)  
I cannot do that…I am sorry, but I request you leave me alone. I am cutting of the freq--

SARI  
No, you are not! Now, where the spark are you? Either you tell me or I'll trace it.

PROWL  
I'm closing the call now, Sari. Goodbye.

**EARTH - SUMDAC TOWER**

Sari leaps up and stomps around angrily.

SARI  
How dare he!? What's his problem?

She dashes to the computer and frantically taps in some commands, her optics locked on the monitor with expectation. Finally the results of the trace appear after an unusually long processing time. Her jaw drops, eyes popped.

SARI  
Cybertron!

The girl springs over to the space bridge controls and pinches her eyes shut as she focuses on whatever it is that guides her mechanical fingertips to work their magic on the console. Just as predicted, her hands transform with a little beeping tune and her tiny circuited fingers go to work on the keypad. Within moments, the transwarp pad glows of blue crackling energy and, without a second thought, she hops onto the warp pad and prepares for her journey with nothing but driving hope.

**CYBERTRON - BLASTER & VIBES NEWLY OPENED NIGHTCLUB**

The dim lit club bustles with activity. All the patrons, with their animated conversations and colorful drinks, appear to be thoroughly enjoying themselves--all but one patron. He's the only one by himself and, occupying a large plush booth that the group next to him envy as they're stuck crowding around a two-bot table. The loner is a pathetic spectacle, his mostly green and black body doubled over, his hook wrapped around a near-empty glass, and his tattooed face flattened against the table.

Vibes spies her customer's inappropriately low class behavior and decides it's time for her to intervene. She strolls up to his booth, planting a firm hand on her hip.

VIBES  
You be cut off now. No more. I cannot allow you to taint the standards of decency I have set in dis place.

Lockdown only grumbles miserably in response. Vibes instantly picks up on his despair and softens her approach a bit.

VIBES  
What is your problem? You normally more vertical dan dis.

Another grumble, only more drawn own, more miserable.

LOCKDOWN  
Trophies're gone. Ship's gone….Kid's gone…I got nothin'.

VIBES  
You sound like oaky earth music me little brudda Jazz talk about. You know da kine, wit all da twang.

LOCKDOWN  
Those cowboys got nothin' on my blues.

VIBES  
(tilting her head curiously)  
How…emo.

The bounty hunters grows irritated of her heckling.

LOCKDOWN  
Darlin' you plan on playin' shrink all night or you gonna fetch me another one a'these (he twitches his hook just enough to bring attention to the glass in its grasp.)

Vibes rears up with both hands planted on her hips now, her optic visor narrowing in offense.

VIBES  
I say you cut off! And if you keep on wit dat attitude, (points sternly to the exit) I have me cuzin trow you out!

The bounty hunter groans some more and manages to sit up. He slouches back against the booth, and looks up at three images of Vibes, two of which dance on either side of her then finally merge into one, clearly unimpressed femme. She shakes her head and saunters off, muttering something about their strongest perk-up concoction. Lockdown has no doubt she is off to fetch that vile drink for him and decides to feign a semblance of sobriety so he won't have to drink it. His attempts are short lived as he witnesses a green & purple dealer appear at the door.

The bounty hunter is up and locking Swindle in a choke hold before he even questions if he has the balance to perform such an action. He slams the dealer into wall, gapped teeth gritting and his hook merely a twitch away from the beady purple optics.

SWINDLE  
(voice raspy from the choking)  
Lockdown…what a pleasure--

LOCKDOWN  
(with heartfelt rage)  
You owe me a ship!

A tall and bulky red Autobot pops up next to the pair, grabbing each one by the collar and apathetically prying them apart.

BLASTER  
Welcome to the B&V gentle bots. Home of the hip-hop, beat-box and super-fly (he tosses Swindle into Lockdown's booth)…no brawlin' policy.

Lockdown's head rush catches up to him and he winces with a groan in the Autobot's chokehold.

LOCKDOWN  
(voice strained)  
Yeah…I heard about that policy.

Blaster looks to his cousin for verification and she replies with a hitchhiking thumb pointing at the exit. With a swift kick to the door and two-handed toss, Blaster sends Lockdown to the plot of ground he'll most likely call home tonight. The bounty hunter lands with a thud and grunt.

BLASTER  
(strangely cheerful tone)  
Brush up on yer cool, bro…then we might let ya kick it here again.

The Autobot disappears into the club, leaving Lockdown to the blandness of the repetitive drumming baseline that represents the area's only sign of life. He was about to sink into recharge but the sound of a familiar engine hum grows louder. The engine's pitch clearly distinguishes it as a smaller, earth model…one Lockdown has ridden with in the past. He props his head up just enough to see a single headlight on the horizon. It's not until the vehicle passes by does the bounty hunter's vision communicate to his processor that it's a bike with a side car. Within a nanoklik, the sprawled mech becomes a menacing musclecar, revving his beastly engine and peeling out toward the highway.

Prowl sped by the B&V's sign without the slightest interest. He didn't even look in the club's direction and therefore didn't see the rejected patron out front. He could only focus ahead, his processor grinding with annoyed guilt over the call from Sari.

Lockdown's speed was not hindered by his lack of sobriety, in fact, it tended to increase when overcharging was in the mix. He quickly closes the gap between his spiked bumper and the bike's rear tire, working out a master plan of lightly clipping the kid, just enough to send him off road and slow him down. That plan could've been brilliantly executed by a sober bot. Instead, Lockdown proceeds to slam his full momentum into the side car, launching the bike off the highway and sending it skidding across the unpaved Cybertronian terrain. The musclecar slams on his breaks, attempting a one-eighty, but instead flips over and tumbles into the off-road as well.

Prowl pops into robot mode to weather the tumbling with shock absorbing limbs. The faint image of red highlights blaring in his rearview before the assault told him exactly who was responsible for the attack. He leaps to his feet, launching his throwing stars at the clumsily approaching menace.

A couple of shuriken to the chest would normally sting quite severely, but Lockdown has more important issues on hand, like how to work his mods. He cycles through each upgrade, nearly losing his balance when the chainsaw roars out.

Prowl relaxes at the sorry spectacle, highly disappointed by the lack of challenge and considers just walking away. That would've been a dignified plan had he not found himself slammed to the ground by an encumbering net.

Lockdown is impressed by his aim, considering the effort it took remember how to fire it. He staggers up to his captive, grinning stupidly at the sight of the seething expression belonging to this impressively immortal bot.

PROWL  
(utterly offended)  
Lockdown! Explain your contentious behavior.

The bounty hunter wobbles down to one knee then squints unevenly as he examines the ninja's now dented and dinged black chassis.

LOCKDOWN  
Looks like Prowl…Sounds like Prowl…(he leans in closer and sniffs a couple times)

PROWL  
(thoroughly repulsed)  
Ughh, get away from me…You smell like a low-grade landfill. Have you no dignity?

LOCKDOWN  
Yep…definitely a spot on replica. Shit, if I hadn't seen the real Prowl blow up with my ship, I might be fooled by ya.

PROWL  
Dammit Lockdown, I am the real Prowl.

LOCKDOWN  
(shaking his head but restoring his grin)  
Nah…can't be…real Prowl never cusses.

He tosses Prowl over his shoulder and, after a couple attempts, manages to stand up. With a wavering stride, he carries his prisoner toward the blinking neon lights of the B&V.

LOCKDOWN  
No matter…yer company'll do. Bot needs someone to talk ta…'specially after he loses everythin' he's got.

PROWL  
(struggling futilely)  
What are you talking about!?

LOCKDOWN  
(continuing, sarcastically indifferent)  
Who knows, maybe you'll be able to shed a little light on the subject of why a punk-aft kid, whom you're a spittin' image of by the way, (nudges his hook in the ninja's side) would come to me seeking a partnership, then get himself blown-the-scrap up without discussin' it with me first.

PROWL  
Enough Lockdown. You're not making any sense…Put me down at once! We can discuss this civilly.

LOCKDOWN  
You can, maybe.

PROWL  
(huffing)  
You can't…do this to me!

LOCKDOWN  
Funny…coulda sworn I am.

The ninja eases off his struggles to vent a frustrated and humiliated stream of air.

PROWL  
I apologize for leaving without informing you first, but I had no way to communicate.

LOCKDOWN  
Ever here of a comm?

PROWL  
I couldn't risk detection from the other Decepticons.

LOCKDOWN  
(stumbles a bit from insulted surprise)  
Other? I ain' no 'con, kid…never was.

PROWL  
I don't mean you! And what's with you? Are you overcharged?

LOCKDOWN  
How'dja guess.

Lockdown approaches the B&V and carries his hostage through the front door without a second thought to his recent ejection from it. They're immediately greeted by a fuming Vibes who follows behind them waving a lecturing figure.

VIBES  
Dis is not dat kine of club! Don't make me call over Blaster again!

LOCKDOWN  
It's fine now, darlin', I'm cool. (heads to his original booth) Your cous' said I could come back when I'm cool again. (he spins to face the femme and tilts his head at the ninja). See…functioning ninjabot makes cool bounty hunter.

Vibes plants her hands on her hips, perplexed by his reasoning. Lockdown flops Prowl into the booth, much to the surprise of Swindle who now occupies it. The dealer watches the events with intrigue, leaning back while he regains his trademark smile.

SWINDLE  
(in a 'why-the-spark-not' tone)  
No harm, Vibes darling, let him stay. I deserved the attack, I was, after all, partially responsible for the destruction of everything he's ever worked for. Lemme buy him and his…friend a drink. It's the least I can do.

VIBES  
(not amused)  
Fine, but any more violence and all a ya's will find yarselfs kissin' the highway…and fer spark sake, free da poor ting from dat net.

She turns away with waning disgust, too mellow to let anything bother her for more than a cycle. Prowl is unhappily sandwiched in the middle of the booth, sleazy dealer on one side and boorish bounty hunter on the other.

LOCKDOWN  
(tugging at the net with his hook)  
If I untie ya, will ya stop behavin' like a horse's ass?

PROWL  
(snapping in defense)  
I am not the one behaving with acrimony.

Lockdown looks to Swindle for a translation.

SWINDLE  
I'd call that a yes…say, shouldn't you be pounding me into scrap?

LOCKDOWN  
Later…right now, the three of us need to have a little spark to spark.


	24. Signs of Hope

_A/N: Meh, who needs a regular updating schedule, especially now that things are really heating up. =D  
_

* * *

**QUINTESSON WARSHIP - LABORATORY**

Blackarachnia, in spider mode, is wedged in the corner farthest from the Starscream. She's built a small nest of webbing between the ceiling and adjoining walls. Starscream has let the hours pass by without attempting to speak to her. He understands her distrust and figures it best to carry on with his disorganized crime rather then try to make sense of it to her.

He sits down at the table, scalpel in hand, and begins carving at his fingertips, creating a pile of metal shavings, and wincing painfully with each pass of the blade. The spider has kept her watch on him the entire time, but this new development of self-mutilation has sparked enough of an interest from her to break the silence.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Why are you doing that?

Starscream doesn't reply and continues the painful task, until all five fingertips are bared down to their circuits. He scoops the shavings onto a metal slide, then finally gives the spider his attention.

STARSCREAM  
I'll tell you if you stop behaving like a caged beast and come down here.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Frag off! I'm not going anywhere near you.

Starscream rises from the table, specimen slide in hand as he drags his aching chassis over to the machine. His level of exhaustion is clearly slowing him down. The recharge he snuck in was only enough to keep his processor functioning at productive levels, but his chassis is clearly in need of some proper rest. This doesn't escape Blackarachnia's attention and she concludes that even if the seeker wanted to attack her, he couldn't do so successfully. She lowers from her nest and transforms, lingering in the corner before finally approaching the table. She watches Starscream place the slide into a slot on the machine then make a few adjustments to the settings. She's perplexed by the changes he made to the machine since her arrival.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(trying to hide curiosity with snooty indifference)  
Why did you change the interface so much? Couldn't you just have scaled up the original design of your first converter?

Starscream keeps his back to her as he continues flipping switches and adjusting knobs.

STARSCREAM  
(speaking quietly)  
I could have if I was making that same model of converter.

He twists his focus to the blank monitor above.

STARSCREAM  
(raising his voice)  
Brinn, I need your expert opinion on something.

No response from the screen.

STARSCREAM  
(making a second attempt)  
Deliberata, are you there?

Still no response.

STARSCREAM  
(with a light smirk)  
Sevax, anyone ever tell you that what you lack in size you DON'T make up in intelli--

BLACKARACHNIA  
(interrupting rudely)  
They obviously aren't listening now, you freak.

The seeker raises a brow at her choice of insult. He approaches the table and holds his uninjured hand out to her.

STARSCREAM  
Come. Let me show why I altered the design.

She hisses at the gesture, eyeballing him skeptically.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I can walk over there without you touching me.

She huffs past him, leaving a wide berth, and keeping him in her periphery with two of her four optics. He turns with a meek shrug and joins her at the machine. She observes the wide gap in the middle of it, pondering why he designed a chamber large enough to house an entire mech's chassis. She notices the chamber is not connected to the slot where the All Spark fragment is. There's an obvious opening sized exactly right for energon cubes, and it's connected to the All Spark shard, but the chamber appears connected to something entirely different. Before she can turn to question the seeker on this, Starscream starts powering on the machine then turns with lightening quickness and abruptly pins her against him, her back pressed to his chest.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(shocked and revolted)  
What are you doing?

It's obviously taking all his strength to keep her from escaping his grasp. She can feel an unhealthy and uneven vibration thrumming under his cock pit, but her full body struggles are still unmatched to his upper body strength. He wraps his skinned fingers around her forearm and shoves her hand into the chamber. She screams as a series of electric bursts strike her hand and she desperately tries to pull it from the glow, but Starscream's grip is too strong. Her fingertips tingle and burn and she continues to scream. Hardly half a cycle passes but it feels like an eternity. The spiderbot watches some purple material travel through the clear tubes in the machine. Her stolen flesh comes into contact with the All Spark energy and transmutes into pink glowing liquid, which fills only a tiny fraction of the empty cube. Her aching fingertips throb and glow as the energy continues to focus on them.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(voice wavering in painful rage)  
You're a monster, Starscream! I hope the energon my body creates will mortally poison your twisted spark and extinguish it for good!

Starscream remains silent, aside from the occasional painful groan, and waits for the machine to finish and the static to die down before releasing the heated femme. She immediately spins around, assaulted hand balled up against her chest and her good hand landing a slapping blow to his cheek. Starscream takes the attack with a turn of his head and anticipates more, but she backs off, fangs bared, good hand gripping the altered one. He glances at her balled fist then meets her blazing optics.

STARSCREAM  
(calm)  
Show me your hand.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Go slag yourself!

STARSCREAM  
(growing irritated)  
Just…open your hand.

She festers a moment, boring her glare into him, then finally drops her optics to her hand and unclenches her fist. The pain her fingertips has subsided and only minor tingles and a slight numbing remain. Nothing shy of astonishment pops in all four of her optics as five light blue fingertips, shining of pure Cybertronian metal, emerge from her fist. Her jaw drops and she snaps her glance back up to the seeker.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(dumbfounded)  
I don't understand.

Starscream's face hints to an expression of satisfaction but it's buried under layers of fatigue. He turns from her and staggers slowly to the table, collapsing in his chair. He lays his head down and vents a long gust of air. She continues to gape at her fingers, face awash with a bombardment of mixed emotions.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Bu-- But how…and why?

STARSCREAM  
(speaking soft but proud)  
Isn't that the reason you resurrected me?

Blackarachnia is left speechless. She can't pull her stare from her fingertips and touches them with her unaltered hand as if to verify their existence.

Starscream smiles weakly and dims his optics, letting himself slip into recharge. His processor barely has time to shut down before he feels the heat from the femme's body slide up to linger next to his shoulder. She doesn't touch him, simply stands, staring, clutching her new hand.

STARSCREAM  
(with a raspy, but sarcastic whisper)  
There something I can do for you?

She practically falls onto him, gliding her hand up his neck to rest on the side of his face where she slapped him. Her four optics are screaming a mix of reverence and regret. Starscream can't see her expression but he can feel it in her touch as her blue-tipped claws intertwine around his fingers (the ones he didn't carve up).

BLACKARACHNIA  
(with awe-struck revelation)  
You're…still one of us.

Starscream presses his sheered finger to his lips, gesturing a 'shush' and points the same finger to the screen above. She lifts his hand and lowers her head, pressing the hand to her cheek.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(soft and regretful)  
Oh Starscream…I'm so sorry.

His only response is a tiny, sincere smirk. It's obvious he has something to say but he has to build up strength to force the words out.

STARSCREAM  
(nearly inaudible)  
If you put the…All Spark fragment onto the specimen slide, then…I'll instruct you how to…use the controls…Step into the chamber after that…and you will be cured.

She looks back at the machine, imagining the scenario in her head. She continues to pet the side of his face, almost autonomously as her processor sifts through too many possibilities. She turns back and leans her face into the hand again, clutching it as she presses it to her cheek.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I can't believe you did this…I don't know what to say.

STARSCREAM  
Don't…say anything…just do…the one thing you…want to do.

She shrinks at the thought of her obsession. It seems so out of place now; so selfish. Why would he bother with her cure now? There are more important issues at hand, doesn't he realize that?

BLACKARACHNIA  
But…I can't…not now…(she looks at him, her scientific reasoning speaking up) Won't that consume the shard? And if my appearance is altered, your cover will be blown for sure.

Starscream only shrugs indifferently.

BLACKARACHNIA  
No…Tell me your plan and let me help you. (she lightly glides her claws across the encumbering cables on his wings, shuddering at the apparent discomfort of them) I'm so sorry I doubted you…please, let me help you.

It takes a couple ventilation cycles from the seeker before he can mutter a response.

STARSCREAM  
(barely audible)  
Very well…we need…outside assistance.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I can call Shockwave. The Quints don't appear to be tracking our comm activity.

STARSCREAM  
(lightly chuckles)  
Fools…they're making this…too easy.

This comment adds hope to her tower of emotions, but concern for his health takes precedence given how broken his speech is.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I could call the Autobots…Optimus Prime will listen…I think. He can pull the Elite Guard in.

Starscream doesn't appear to agree with this.

STARSCREAM  
No…call the ninja…tell him to bring his…hologram mod here.

She tilts her head with pity, her hope slipping away.

BLACKARACHNIA  
But he's on Earth, Starscream…you…you need to rest, you're not processing clearly.

She glides her fingers over his forehead and looks on him with worry.

STARSCREAM  
(nearly purring from the touch)  
You're wrong…He's on this planet…traveled with us…I helped him…He owes me a favor.

She stares blankly at him, trying to decipher if he's hallucinating.

STARSCREAM  
I have his…comm freq…stop gawking at me like…I'm a lunatic…and call him.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(almost insulted but more impressed)  
You're just full of surprises aren't you…(she tries to imagine the scenario then shrugs it off and continues with the issue at hand). How's he suppose to get on the ship?

STARSCREAM  
(weakly shrugging)  
He's a ninja…he'll figure something out.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(leans in and lowers her voice)  
How do you know he'll help us?

STARSCREAM  
(brow furrows slightly)  
You going to…help or keep wasting…my recharge time with…useless questions?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(clenches her teeth in budding frustration)  
Well, I need to know where we're coming from here.

STARSCREAM  
Quints are…his problem too…he'll help.

Blackarachnia is unsure of his confidence. She wants to believe him but still questions how his exhausted state is effecting his reasoning abilities. She looks over him introspectively, still amazed by his drastic change from their pre-Earth days. It's either dumb luck or divine intervention that this strange seeker is still alive. She lets an adoring smile slip and nearly pats herself on the back for unintentionally transforming this selfish snake into an unsung hero.

Starscream is on the verge of blissful recharge, soaking up her consoling touch like a desert weed to precious raindrops.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What about Megatron?

His purring stops. He watches his promise of blissful recharge flutter away.

STARSCREAM  
(irritation rising)  
What about him?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Shouldn't you tell him you're…not a traitor. He locked himself away in his champion's room. Won't talk to anyone.

STARSCREAM  
(chewing over the picture she just painted)  
Sounds…unstable. Leave him…out of this…for now. Give him…time to cool down.

She clutches his hand in both of hers and brings it to her lips, dimming her optics at the feel of him on her flesh.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(gentle whisper)  
Oh Starscream.

STARSCREAM  
(one optic barely illuminates)  
What!…More interrogation or…can I recharge now?

She giggles into his hand then places her hand on the side of his helm, creating a link between their cortexes and uploading Prowl's comm frequency.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Get your rest…genius. I'll make the call.

**BLASTER & VIBES NIGHTCLUB**

Lockdown, Prowl and Swindle still occupy the same booth. The bounty hunter and the dealer appear relaxed but the ninja is leaning on the table, head pressed into his hands.

PROWL  
A weapon of mass destruction?!

SWINDLE  
(tilting some pink liquid down his throat)  
You got it! Any and all surface life…woosh…deactivated with the press of a button.

LOCKDOWN  
Ya mean like an EMP pulse? (cringes as he drinks his sober-up sludge)Thought you said it was a missile.

SWINDLE  
It is. It's both. With a long-range missile, they can keep hiding like the cowards they are, but target the dead center of Iacon.

PROWL  
(voice muffled by his hands)  
Why does its point of impact matter if it has planet-wide effects?

SWINDLE  
Primus guys, you writing a report?

Prowl pulls his head up with disbelieving annoyance and looks at the dealer like he's the dumbest mech ever.

PROWL  
We're talking about the extinction of our home planet. Don't you think the details are rather important? How can you be so calm about this? (looks over to Lockdown) Both of you! Do you not even care?

Lockdown shrugs indifferently.

LOCKDOWN  
Seen a few apocalypse threats in my time. (sets his cup down and shoves it away with a snubbing glance) Autobots always figure a way outta it, though. Never needed to make it my business.

PROWL  
(eyeballs the bounty hunter with aversion)  
You do realize who's commanding the Autobots. They're not figuring anything out anytime soon. (dragging the cup back in front of Lockdown) They're too busy trying to pull their heads from their afts.

Lockdown chuckles then ascends into a guffaw, pounding his fist to the table and nearly spilling his drink. Prowl, not one bit amused, shakes his head and turns back to face Swindle.

PROWL  
Answer my question. What happens at the missile's point of impact?

SWINDLE  
(smirking simply from Lockdown's contagious laughter)  
What do think? It goes boom. (hands gesture an explosion) Does a bit a good ol'fashioned physical damage before the surge spreads across the planet.

Lockdown descends from his hysterical high and plops his hand on Prowl's head, giving it a friendly shove.

LOCKDOWN  
Ohh, kid…I'll admit I like yer processor like this.

Prowl jerks out of the insulting touch.

PROWL  
Do not touch me.

Lockdown leans over Prowl, using the same teasing hand to reach out to Swindle and smack him in the side of the head. Prowl huffs at the invasion to his personal space and Swindle drops his smile and attempts a look of innocence.

SWINDLE  
What was that for?!

Lockdown leans back into his own space, shoving his drink away again and raising an annoyed brow to Swindle.

LOCKDOWN  
Th'spark you doin' blabbing all your employer's secrets to us? Can no one depend on yer weaselly aft?

SWINDLE  
(replies defensively with vivid body language)  
They're pissing me off. They volunteered my prize fighter for their little scientific experimentation. They got no scruples. I wouldn't be working for 'em if they didn't have our home planet by the ball bearings.

PROWL  
Have they roped in anyone else in addition to Starscream?

SWINDLE  
(confessional)  
Uhhh, well…I kinda…convinced my ol' partner to hop on the bandwagon…Chromia said she'd be be their eyes and ears of EG activity.

PROWL  
(shocked)  
What!?

LOCKDOWN  
Who?

The club's door creaks open barely, causing Swindle to glance over at who's entering. Prowl and Lockdown keep their shocked and curious stare on the dealer, then twist to see what the distraction is when Swindle's expression morphs to puzzlement.

A small, orange and yellow techno-organic surveys the bar, looking over all the patrons then locking a masked, but most likely livid, face onto the three mech's staring at her. She fires up her jetpack and soars up to land on their table, hurling her tracking device directly at Prowl, and nailing him directly in the golden chevron.

PROWL  
Sari!? (rubbing his assaulted forehead) What are you--

SARI  
(pointing an enraged finger at him)  
Quiet you! I get to ask the questions around here!

Lockdown bursts into laughter and leans over to Prowl.

LOCKDOWN  
(teasing)  
Baggage?

Sari kicks the cup of sober-up sludge at Lockdown, launching the black liquid across his white face. He stops laughing.

Vibes approaches to inspect the violent new patron.

VIBES  
I should have known it be friends of yours. (waves a finger at the girl) Why you wear de mask?

SARI  
Du-uh! To breath?

Vibes stands her ground, face washing over in an 'oh really' look.

VIBES  
(threatening)  
You going to barge into my club and pull attitude wit me?

LOCKDOWN  
(wiping the liquid from his face)  
Bad idea, kid.

Sari looks back and forth between Lockdown, Vibes and then finally at Prowl.

SARI  
(unapologetic)  
I'm sorry…I'm just a little upset that this bot (fiercely illuminates her optics at Prowl) made me travel across the entire universe to find his deserter butt!

VIBES  
(waves the girl off uninterested)  
Whatever, not my problem. I only mean to tell we have atmosphere simulator.

The fed up femme turns and leaves, mumbling a string of profanities.

SARI  
Oh. (her mask retracts with -fwip-) Much better. (returns to a lecturing stance in front of Prowl) Now, as for you mister!

PROWL  
(firm)  
Sari, I'm not going back. I'm sorry you feel so strongly about it.

SARI  
(desperately)  
Have you seriously chosen the company of these (gestures to Prowl's company) jerkbuckets to your own team!?

Swindle glances to Lockdown with an arched brow and mouths the word 'jerkbucket' with amused questioning. Lockdown shakes his head then twists around and pulls an object from his 'trunk'.

PROWL  
(frustrated)  
Unless our 'team', as you so assuredly put it, has figured out a solution to this planet's predicament, than I would rather not have anything to do with--

Prowl is silenced as Lockdown slams Master Yoketron's helmet onto his head then pats the top of it a couple times for good measure.

PROWL  
(stunned)  
…them?

SARI  
(shocked by the action)  
Your missing helmet.

SWINDLE  
(disappointed)  
Awww, you're just going to give it away like that? You coulda at least haggled a--

Sari and Lockdown fire Swindle a stabbing glare. The dealer hunkers down in the booth, optics wide and mouth shut.

The upgraded cyber ninja sits in dumbfounding realization as a flood of dawning thought overwhelms him. The other three just watch him curiously.

SARI  
Prowl? Are you okay?

Prowl reaches out to Sari, his optic visor beholding her reverently. He rests his fingers on her tiny shoulder and his thumb to her cheek. She brings her hand to meet his, smiling sweetly in response.

SARI  
Did-- Did that cure you?

PROWL  
(optic visor glowing bright as he continues to process an overload of thoughts)  
I was already cured…Something else was wrong.

SARI  
What? How's that possible?

The moment is interrupted when Prowl's comm crackles with static and a raspy feminine voice emerges from it.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Prowl, do you copy?

Prowl isn't sure what to expect anymore, but responds anyway, looking over his cohorts' optics with bewilderment.

PROWL  
Yes, who's this?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(whispering)  
It's Blackarachnia.

Swindle sinks further down in the booth, face screaming guilt. He gestures desperately to the others.

SWINDLE  
(whispering)  
Don't tell her I'm here.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(continuing with apprehension)  
How feasible is it for to bring your hologram mod to us in the cloaked Quintesson warship hovering over the arena?

Prowl's confusion is about to send his processor back to a severe state of glitching.

PROWL  
What? Why me? Why is everyone targeting me today?

SARI  
(leaning into his touch)  
Because you're a hero…(growing confused) By the way, what's a Quintesson?

Prowl turns and regrettably looks to Lockdown for some easier advice.

LOCKDOWN  
(half shrugs and points at Sari)  
Girl's right.

Prowl drops his head with a relenting sigh.

PROWL  
(into comm)  
You want me to sneak onto the Quintesson warship, give you my mod that enables my undetectable stealth, then attempt to sneak off without the aid of my mod?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Well…(meekly) yes?

Prowl groans in frustration.

PROWL  
What for!?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Starscream wants it. He has a plan to take the Quints down…I think.

The three mechs perk up with dawning hope.

SWINDLE  
(smile creeping across his face)  
Why that sneaky son-of-a-glitch. He even had me fooled. (quickly hops out of the booth and holds his hand out to Prowl) Give it to me. I'll take it to em.

LOCKDOWN  
(eyeballing the dealer skeptically)  
Like hell you will.

Prowl chews over the situation, analyzing the dealerbot and his potential for sincerity.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Prowl, are you still there?

PROWL  
Yes, Blackarachnia, I am here…(pulls the mod from his chest and places it in Swindle's hand). Swindle will bring it to you, is that acceptable?

BLACKARACHNIA  
What? Swindle?! NO! He's a dirty double-cross--

PROWL  
(confident)  
He's seen the error of his way and I believe you can trust him.

Swindle freezes, unable to comprehend the idea that he can gain trust without first delivering a sales pitch.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Do…you trust him?

PROWL  
(taking a moment to study the dealer's sheepish optics)  
Yes, I do. He will deliver the mod. Is there anything else you need?

BLACKARACHNIA  
No…Prowl, thank you…and…for what it's worth…I'm sorry…for what we did to you.

PROWL  
(introspective)  
I am alive thanks to you…I hold no grudges.

He ends the call and lingers silently while his processor grinds through some memories. A vivid thought hits him and he looks over the others with a bitter expression.

PROWL  
I take that back… I do harbor one grudge.

The ninja scoots out of the booth and heads to the exit, stopping to look back on the questioning optics.

SARI  
(worried)  
Prowl? Where are you going?

PROWL  
(to Swindle)  
You say Chromia is working for the Quintessons?

SWINDLE  
You got it, bucko, but…(lower his voice) don't tell her I told ya.

LOCKDOWN  
(scowling at the dealer)  
S'ere any bot you haven't stabbed in the back?

Swindle can only shrug with a guilty smile. He walks over to the exit, giving Prowl a grateful pat to the arm then pushing past him out the door. Prowl watches him transform and speed off toward Kaon.

LOCKDOWN  
(looking to Prowl with interrogation)  
What now hero? Why are ya so eager to leave this joint?

PROWL  
I have business to attend to at the Elite Guard Headquarters.

SARI  
(insulted)  
You mean you're gonna leave me here with (gesture to Lockdown) him?

PROWL  
I assure you Sari, Lockdown will see to it that no harm comes to you.

Prowl removes the Autobot insignia from his chest and walks back to the table. He slaps it onto the bounty hunter's faceless black symbol then turns back to the exit. Lockdown beholds the action with offense.

LOCKDOWN  
(shouting out)  
Th'spark you think yer doin'?

PROWL  
(replying with a shout but not looking back)  
Giving you my trust.

Prowl yanks open the door again, flashing Sari a smirk and a wink.

LOCKDOWN  
(pursues the ninja, waving a threatening hook)  
You got some serious sparkplugs kid.

PROWL  
(not intimidated)  
Yes, you have said that before.

Prowl leaves the club, much to Lockdown's annoyance. The bounty hunter turns back toward the booth and frowns at the girl, who stands with her arms crossed, equally sizing him up.

LOCKDOWN  
(muttering under his breath)  
Well ain't this just…peachy.


	25. Grudges

_A/N: Not much to say other than the second scene takes full advantage of my T-rating =D_

_Special thanks to antepathy and Optimus Bob for the beta read. ::hugs::  
_

* * *

**KAON - GLADIATORIAL ARENA - LOWER LEVEL**

Waspinator makes his way past the training rooms, peering curiously into each one as he passes by. He knows exactly who he's looking for and his quest is completed once he reaches the end of the hall. Seated on the bench just outside the Champion's room is a not-so-familiar face, but one he knows for certain he attended the Autobot academy with when they both used to wear the red insignia.

Shockwave heard the predacon approach, but he didn't expect to be vengefully pinned against the wall so quickly.

SHOCKWAVE  
(voice strained by the claws around his neck)  
What on Cybertron do you think you're doing!?

WASPINATOR  
(growling directly in the intel bot's face)  
Two-face bot destroy Wazp's life! Now Wazzpinator get payback!

Shockwave drops his shoulders and rolls his optic in annoyance.

SHOCKWAVE  
Now is not the appropriate time to rehash old grudges.

WASPINATOR  
(fuming even more)  
Geekbot wrong! Wazzpinator think it perfect time for confrontation!

Waspinator buzz-roars as he throws Shockwave to the other side of the hall. The intel bot grunts as his back slams into the Champion Room's door. The predacon advances on him, rearing an arm back to lay a driving punch into the single optic, but the door rips open, causing Shockwave to fall back on his aft. The flying green fist is caught by an impressive black hand which twists it and forces the attacker, after a series of pathetic yelps and buzzes, to the floor. Shockwave looks up with awe to the formidable mech stepping over him, and looking back down on him with question.

Megatron emerges into the hallway, dragging the groveling techo-organic behind him. His leg is still damaged but he's using an old rusty sword as a crutch.

MEGATRON  
Shockwave!

The intel bot pops up from his humiliated sprawl and promptly appears next to his leader's side, his optic glowing fiercely with optimism. They make their way down the corridor, Megatron pulling the predacon behind him like a rag doll.

MEGATRON  
(calm and confident)  
I do not know or care to know what your quarrel is about, but I request you continue it above in the designated fighting grounds.

SHOCKWAVE  
(confused)  
I-- I don't understand, my liege…won't that attract unnecessary attention from--

MEGATRON  
(interrupting)  
Precisely.

The three emerge onto the main level, near the concession stand, immediately catching the attention of Lugnut and Blitzwing.

LUGNUT  
Master!

Lugnut rushes to his limping leader's side, beholding him reverently. Blitzwing is quick to follow his comrade, but hesitant to speak. The group travels to the nearest arched doorway leading into the empty stadium seating. Megatron stops in the doorway, causing his followers to abruptly stop behind him. His internal temperature rises as he catches sight of his swords and the crushed converter, but he quickly stifles his anger to focus on the moment at hand.

MEGATRON  
(quietly with scheming)  
My loyal soldiers…I need you to create a diversion.

LUGNUT  
Anything my Lord! What kind of diversion would you like?

Megatron looks over his shoulder at Lugnut, his optics conveying what could almost be an appreciation for his doting subservient.

MEGATRON  
A big one (he points to the fighting grounds)…down there…distracting enough that I may depart these grounds, unnoticed.

WASPINATOR  
(stupidly daring to speak up)  
What kind of leader leave his botzz behind while he ezscapezs!?

Megatron forms a tiny smile as he hears Blitzwing's face switch to Hothead and feels the heat radiating off of Lugnut. He lifts the doubting bug within view of his scheming optics then sends him hurling through the air and over the rows of seats.

MEGATRON  
Go get him.

Lugnut and Blitzwing immediately heed their master's call and charge toward Waspinator. The predacon has the sense to fly with the throw to prevent an unpleasant slam into the ground.

LUGNUT  
(with a fierce roar)  
How dare you doubt our leader!?

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
Get down here and fight like a Decepticon, insect!

Megatron allows himself a shred of enjoyment as he watches the spectacle.

SHOCKWAVE  
(utterly perplexed)  
I still don't understand, my liege. Why are you encouraging instability in our ranks?

The screens around the fighting grounds suddenly fill with the image of Deliberata and Sevax. Megatron steps back, out of view from the aliens.

DELIBERATA  
(with his anger face)  
What is the meaning of this tomfoolery!?

Shockwave dawns onto his leader's plan as Megatron limps away, aiming for a side door.

SHOCKWAVE  
(ardently following behind)  
But Megatron! Where will you go?

Megatron pushes the door open but turns back to face Shockwave. His smile replaced with a stern but humbled confidence.

MEGATRON  
To seek help.

He slips through the exit, maintaining a commanding air to his walk despite the limp then transforms and disappears into the Cybertronian sky. Shockwave is left with a flood of processes, a enlightening mix of pride and hope. Despite his lack of knowledge to Megatron's plan, he finds encouragement from his processor's inability to access a single shred of doubt.

**ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS - CHROMIA'S PRIVATE QUARTERS**

The double-agent sits at her desk, looking very displeased and tapping at her comm.

CHROMIA  
Fraggit Swindle, why don't you answer your comm?

She reaches over and switches her stereo on, letting its soft hum of sultry music fill the room. She leans back in her chair, venting a sigh.

CHROMIA  
I gotta relax…can't accomplish anything if I'm behaving like a slagging sparkling ready to spring a leak.

There's a knock at her door--most likely Sentinel.

CHROMIA  
(responding loud but flat)  
Yes!

A deep voice, barely audible emerges, simple speaking her name. It sounded way too calm and smooth to be Sentinel.

CHROMIA  
(rising from her chair)  
Who's there?

PROWL  
It's me Chromia…it's Prowl.

She freezes, not sure what to make of this.

CHROMIA  
How's that possible? You're on Earth.

He was supposed to be anyways. Why didn't anyone tell her he was here? Who's processor needed fragging for keeping her out of the loop?

PROWL  
Are you going to let me in?

CHROMIA  
(skeptical)  
Depends. You going to attack me again?

PROWL  
That's a loaded question.

She quirks a smile and approaches the door, slightly expanding her wings in case of a worst case scenario.

CHROMIA  
Okay, I'm intrigued now.

She opens the door and beholds her old flame with quick heat flash to her chassis but his missing insignia immediately diverts her attention. Before she can question it, she finds herself pulled tight against him, dipped down and devoured by a deep, passionate kiss. She goes limp, her spark tingling with the rekindling of her past desire for the scrappy little bot. She moans into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his head. He pulls away from the kiss, standing her upright then walking deeper into her room. He approaches her desk, turning music's volume up to fill the atmosphere with the appropriate mood. Still in a haze, the femme closes the door, locking it then gasps as a set of black and tan arms wrap around her waist and pull her so her back is pressed flush to his chest.

Prowl's hands glide around her waist and hips, his entire body guiding her in a slow rhythm. His face is buried in her neck, kissing and occasionally nipping at sensitive wires. She leans her head back on his shoulder, lightly giggling in ecstasy and running her arms along his.

CHROMIA  
(breathless)  
You going to…keep me guessing?

PROWL  
(purring directly into her audio receptor)  
About what?

CHROMIA  
(releasing a moan before speaking)  
About…what the spark you're doing here…and why your insignia is missing?

He twists her around to face him then pushes them both to her berth. She shrinks down to sit upon it once feeling it press against the back of her legs. Prowl kneels down over her, scooting her back and easing down on top of her.

PROWL  
I want you to join me.

He dives back into a consuming kiss, lifting her arms over her head and locking them down with one hand. She can only respond with nonsensical noises of arousal. He pulls from the kiss, just enough to mutter his next thoughts.

PROWL  
I work for the Quintessons now, just like you used to.

Her optics brighten.

CHROMIA  
What!?

PROWL  
(with a sultry smirk)  
They are on the verge of controlling Cybertron now, Chromia. Join me and together we can welcome the dawning of a new Cybertron.

The ninja presses more of his weight into her body and lowers his mouth to her neck again.

CHROMIA  
Hol-- Hold on there…(she lets a moan escape while he teases her neck). You don't wanna work for the Quints.

PROWL  
(whispering in her audio receptor)  
Why not? Is there a better option for two bots like us?

CHROMIA  
(confusing growing through arousal)  
Um…because…they're wretched, back-stabbing lowlifes.

Prowl can only laugh at the irony. Chromia attempts to move her wings but to no avail as they're pinned against the berth.

CHROMIA  
(now slightly frustrated)  
What do you mean by 'bots like us'? Autobots?

Chromia almost feels sorry for this poor mixed-up Autobot and nearly regrets the job she did on his processor. She wants to question if Swindle got to him too but she can hardly think straight with the ninja's merciless voice flowing directly into her cortex.

PROWL  
No…I mean bots that are destined to be unattached, uninhibited…and free.

He cups her cheek in his hand and hints to a kiss, his head tilting and hovering merely a breath from her lips. She sighs longingly, unable to deny her vivid attraction to this unpredictable mech. No bot she's been close to ever made her feel this way. She prides herself on detachment and manipulation in situations like these, but with Prowl it's different. Even in their reckless academy days, the little scrapper had a way of bringing the sincerity out of her.

CHROMIA  
If freedom is what you seek, you're better off sticking with the Autobots. (she stares deeply into his optic visor)

Prowl runs fingers along her cheek, looking over her face longingly.

PROWL  
I'd rather not. Too many of them have let me down…You're the only Autobot I can trust anymore…the only one with the courage to be truthful with me.

Okay, that comment actually made her feel guilty, but she could work with this. He is clearly still under the influence of her hypnosis so perhaps she can mold him into a tool for her agenda.

CHROMIA  
(going out on a limb)  
What you desire…sounds an awful lot like the…Decepticon creed.

Prowl lifts his head up and looks over her optics with question.

PROWL  
What are you suggesting?

He still has her arms pinned above her head, but his other hand continues the gentle caressing on her face and helmet.

CHROMIA  
Well…I originally had this great plan for a…lifestyle change, if you will. That is before the Quints came back and fragged it all up.

PROWL  
They're not fragging anything up, Chromia. They have great plans for Cybertron.

CHROMIA  
(hopeless chuckling under her breath)  
Oh, your poor sweet thing, what I have done to you?

Prowl pauses his caressing but continues to study her optics. A tiny smirk begins forming on his mouth.

CHROMIA  
(after a reluctant pause)  
You…you remember the schoolgirl crush I had on Megatron during out academy days?

PROWL  
I would call it more an obsession.

CHROMIA  
Right, well…(she winces) I never let it go.

Prowl is now completely engrossed, his smirk spreading wider.

CHROMIA  
(hesitantly)  
I am…(she can't believe she about to say this) somewhat affiliated with him…well, more like sworn to his cause.

Prowl stares deep in her optics, obviously processing the new information, but how he is processing it is a mystery to her. Damn unreadable optic visor.

CHROMIA  
(with complete sincerity)  
I really think it would be in your best interest…assuming we survive this whole squid invasion…to join me…as a Decepticon.

Prowl doesn't respond with anything but a satisfied smile. She's about to question him but her entire chassis electrifies with the stasis cuffs he slaps on her wrists. She hollers in shock before going limp with partial paralysis. Prowl pulls back, sitting up on his knees and glaring down at her with a quirked brow.

PROWL  
Not the confession I expected, but it will suffice.

CHROMIA  
(in denial and speaking weakly)  
Primus Prowl, you know I'm into the kinky stuff, but you could at least ask…

PROWL  
Save your energy. (he pulls her from the berth and tosses her over his shoulder). You'll need it for explaining yourself to the Council.

Prowl carries her out of the room, stopping to pick up his master's helmet which he left just outside the door, then continuing down the corridor.

Chromia can only dangle in bewilderment.

CHROMIA  
(with a slight giggle)  
Haha, very funny Prowl. You'd better not let anyone see us like this…Sentinel wouldn't be very happy with you.

PROWL  
(typically stoic)  
I don't imagine he will, but that honestly doesn't concern me at the moment.

They reach the end of the hall which splits off in a "T". Prowl slips his master's helmet on and looks down both corridors, his optic visor shining with confidence. He chooses the path to the left.

CHROMIA  
(now fully aware of her plight)  
Where are we going? This isn't the way to the Council room.

PROWL  
(unaffected)  
That was a feeble attempt at deception. Are you sure you're cut out to be a Decepticon?

CHROMIA  
(purely insulted)  
Go frag yourself! They'll never take your word over mine, and where's your proof!? You don't even have your insignia.

PROWL  
(ignoring her threats)  
We'll see.

They come upon an open elevator and Prowl steps inside. He drifts his hand up the button panel, letting his instinct decide which one to press. The door closes and the elevator ascends smoothly.

PROWL  
What do you know of the Quintesson threat?

CHROMIA  
(gritting her teeth)  
A considerable amount.

PROWL  
(lecturing)  
When were planning on sharing this information with the Autobots?

CHROMIA  
(with guilty hesitation)  
Um…soon?

The elevator reaches their floor and Prowl slides through the door before they can fully open, unbothered that he bumps his captive's aft into the heavy door.

PROWL  
How about within the next couple cycles? I expect you to explain in detail to the Council the Quintessons' intentions. I also would like you to tell them of Starscream's role of double-agent aboard the their ship and how the Autobots may use me to communicate with him if need be.

CHROMIA  
(she feels really dumb now)  
Starscream's not…?

PROWL  
Blackarachnia is with him as well. I believe they intend to disarm the WMD.

CHROMIA  
(confusion now mixing in her state of angered humiliation)  
Since you're obviously such an expert on the subject, why don't you tell them yourself?

PROWL  
Because I don't dare stay in that room longer than I need to. I may do something I'll regret.

They enter a large open room with grand (pompous) architecture. At the opposite end are two large, overly embellished doors, which Prowl heads directly toward.

PROWL  
(continuing)  
Earlier, I told a friend…You-- You know what a friend is right?…Someone you can trust?

CHROMIA  
(snapping coldly)  
Spare me!…Trust is overrated.

PROWL  
(simply shaking his head)  
How sad…As I was saying, I told a friend that I carry no grudges accept for one…which is quite literal in our current situation.

CHROMIA  
(fed up)  
Do you have a point?

PROWL  
Of course. (they approach the doors) I bear an even larger grudge than the one I have for you.

Prowl bursts the doors open with a strong, controlled kick then enters the Council chamber proudly. He sickens at the gaudy architecture then tosses the femme down in the middle of the floor. Only the three main Council members are present: Alpha Trion, Perceptor and Sentinel, and they all stare aghast at the disruptive actions.

SENTINEL  
(infuriated)  
What is the meaning of this!?

PROWL  
(suppressing his anger)  
Here is your double-agent. She's been working with the Decepticons all along.

SENTINEL  
(approaching the ninja, optics ablaze)  
How dare you, of all bots, accuse my…personnel of treachery.

PROWL  
(standing his ground)  
Your personnel has just openly confessed to me her devotion to the Decepticons.

CHROMIA  
(pleading from her undignified sprawl on the floor)  
He's lying sirs…his processor is still glitching.

SENTINEL  
My thoughts exactly! Where is your proof, ninjabot?

CHROMIA  
He doesn't have any proof! He's just trying to get back at me for--

She cuts herself off when she sees Prowl pull a small disk from the side of his helmet and toss it to Perceptor.

PROWL  
Her confession is recorded on that disk. You will note its time stamp and its unaltered condition. (turns for the door but continues speaking with pride) However…seeing how Processor Over Matter doesn't meet your standards of heroic technique, I don't expect you to approve of my interrogation tactics here.

Prowl exits the room with a fierce slam of the door. Sentinel is left gawking stupidly while Perceptor plays the tape. The rooms fills with the soundtrack of the femme's recent encounter with the ninja, no detail left out. She remains guiltily speechless and Sentinel has to take a seat, pressing his head into his palms. Alpha Trion is introspective while Perceptor shifts uncomfortably and averts his gaze from the femme to prevent unprofessional thoughts from entering his processor. Once the playback finishes, Chromia finally musters the courage to speak up.

CHROMIA  
(sheepish grin)  
Um, all treachery aside…there's something you bots need to know about The Quintessons.


	26. Reunited

_A/N: Sorry this is late. I blame Christmas. I also blame Christmas for making me write a bunch of Autobot angst and fluff. Eeesh, can we say out of my comfort zone?_

_[this is silent comm speak]_

_Enjoy? ^_^  
_

* * *

**ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS**

Only a couple cycles have past since Prowl's encounter with the Council. He makes his way back into the maze of hallways of the Autobot base but his processor is too clouded to call upon his cyber ninja sense to guide him further. He finds the nearest bench and retreats to it, burying his head in his hands.

_What was that? Why did I say that? Who am I to elect myself a hero? A true hero doesn't act in expectation of praise. Master would be so ashamed…Perhaps that's why the Well didn't see me fit to enter; why I was left to drift in oblivion instead of fully merge with the All Spark. Are my past sins too many? Have I not learned from them? I nearly returned to my old ways, influenced solely by a mind trick. Chromia's powers are not that strong, she knew…knows me; knows my flaws and weaknesses. Why wasn't I aware of my cure when it happened? That may have prevented the damage she did to me. How did Starscream figure it out before I did?_

_I've spent the majority of my functioning serving only myself. Did I truly think I could achieve hero status with one impetuous action, one that may have been avoided if I had listened to Jazz? Perhaps there was another way. Perhaps it was not my place to play the hero. Perhaps the Council was right and the title of hero is reserved only for a select few._

STARSCREAM  
Prowl, are you there?

The unexpected voice in the ninja's comm snaps him out of his world of burdensome thought.

PROWL  
Yes, who is this?

STARSCREAM  
(sarcastic)  
Do you really need to ask?

Prowl lifts his head from hands and looks both ways down the hallway to make sure no one is in earshot.

PROWL  
(talking low)  
Starscream…did Swindle deliver my mod to you?

STARSCREAM  
Yes.

PROWL  
Did he do so without complication?

STARSCREAM  
No, he tried to sell it to us but Blackarachnia, with strategic use of her stingers, 'haggled' a fair price. Where are you?

PROWL  
Elite Guard Headquarters. I am trying to locate my team.

STARSCREAM  
Trying? What's to try? Download the base's map to your processor and trace Optimus Prime's comm frequency. Are all cyber ninja's this technologically inept or are you just--

PROWL  
(frustration rising)  
I thank you for that helpful information. Now what is it I can do for you, Starscream?

STARSCREAM  
Have you told any Autobots of my plans?

PROWL  
I don't even know your plans.

STARSCREAM  
I mean, who else knows I'm not in league with the Quintessons?

PROWL  
I have only told Chromia and she is informing the Council of the Quintessons as we speak. However, I suspect they'll be skeptical of her testimony.

STARSCREAM  
Why? She is a trusted official. Why wouldn't they believe her?

PROWL  
Was a trusted official. I just blew her cover.

STARSCREAM  
What the spark did you do that for?

PROWL  
(growing more frustrated)  
Wha-- Why didn't you tell me she was a double-agent? You do realize how much damage she did--

STARSCREAM  
So it wasn't enough that I helped you escape the Death's Head? You expected me to betray my faction, despite the fact we were unaware of the squid threat then? Are all Autobots this ungrateful?

Prowl drops his head back into his hands.

PROWL  
(thoroughly frustrated)  
No, forget it. (pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a few deep ventilations) Why did you call? Do you wish me to inform the Autobots of your position?

STARSCREAM  
No, I prefer you not mention me at all.

PROWL  
(confusion now added to his frustration)  
What?…Why?

STARSCREAM  
Tell them Blackarachnia is planning to disarm the WMD. They're more inclined to trust her. She has Autobot programming. If you mention me, it'll only complicate the matter. No Autobot will ever believe me capable of…you know…

PROWL  
(softening slightly)  
Selflessness?

Starscream doesn't respond but Prowl can practically hear the Decepticon's processor spinning. He gives Starscream a moment of morally driven discomfort while he rises from the bench and downloads the base's map from a "You Are Here" kiosk.

PROWL  
You said I can trace Optimus Prime's location using his comm frequency?

STARSCREAM  
That is correct. You shouldn't need to call him, simply plug the numbers into your personal scanner. When you find him, tell him to call Blackarachnia. She will provide regular updates to our status of disarming the weapon.

PROWL  
Should I mention you at all? Perhaps suggest that you may be an ally? I don't believe it's as hard to fathom as you think. Autobots think differently from Decepticons.

STARSCREAM  
(sarcastic)  
Do they now? I had no idea.

PROWL  
(not amused)  
Starscream…

STARSCREAM  
You obviously know nothing of the reputation I built for myself during the war. No self-respecting Autobot who knows their history will accept me as an ally.

PROWL  
You speak as though you pride yourself on this.

STARSCREAM  
Under normal circumstances I would, but since these are not normal circumstances, I suggest we desist the friendly exchanges and you get on with carrying out my request.

PROWL  
I have accepted you as an ally, Starscream. Does that mean I do not respect myself?

STARSCREAM  
Possibly, but you are the exception. You can relate to the influence of an alien personality altering your processor.

The ninja is not convinced by this explanation. He takes a seat again, leaning against his legs staring straight ahead at nothing in particular.

PROWL  
(speaking softly and introspectively)  
Your human influence was a far cry from mine. You have found strength from it while mine simply poisoned me…sickened me by my own dark desires.

STARSCREAM  
If you're trying to make me feel guilty, it won't work.

Prowl runs his hand over his head, his circuits twisting in a self-loathing realization.

PROWL  
You intentionally merged me with a detestable character because you knew I would relate to it.

STARSCREAM  
(growing bored)  
Honestly, we didn't put that much thought into it.

PROWL  
You must have. One of you must have known the human would have surfaced my true nature. It cannot be mere coincidence that he was so closely matched to who I really am.

STARSCREAM  
(boredom replaced with impatience)  
Not to burst your bubble Prowl, but my colleagues and I regarded you as nothing more than a convenient distraction for Optimus Prime while we went about on our agenda. We didn't analyze your 'true nature' beyond the fact that you were an inherently noble Autobot who was in need a good moral compromising. Now can we please focus on the apocalyptic issue at hand?!

Prowl rises from the bench and paces a few times, his fingers pressing in his forehead.

PROWL  
(shaking his head in self doubt)  
I am not the one you should rely on for help. (he leans his forehead against the wall) I can't even think straight anymore. Even after I was cured I abandoned my team for my own selfish desires. It probably took Chromia very little effort to manipulate me. All she had to do was draw upon a very prominent part of who I am.

STARSCREAM  
(after a pause)  
Are you done?

The Decepticon's lack of sympathy reminds Prowl who it is he's oddly enough chosen to bear his soul to. He feels a twinge of embarrassment wash over him yet he still can't deny how good it felt to vocalize some of his maddening affliction.

PROWL  
I…think so.

STARSCREAM  
(typically sarcastic)  
Are you sure? Because I can put the welfare of this planet on hold while you wallow in your useless pity party.

Prowl remains silent, dimming his optics and keeping his head pinned to the wall.

STARSCREAM  
(softening his tone a notch)  
Prowl…I'm not asking you to single-handedly take down the Quintesson ship. I simply require you get your superiors in contact with Blackarachnia…Can you do that?

More silence; not ideal to Starscream's agenda of impatience but he refrains from speaking as he can practically hear the ninja's processor spinning.

PROWL  
(near whisper)  
Optimus will listen to her…more than he'll listen to me at this point.

STARSCREAM  
(biting back irritation)  
Is that a yes?

PROWL  
Yes.

STARSCREAM  
Good. We will attempt to analyze the trigger mechanism of the WMD, but I can't say for sure when that will happen. We may just have to wait until tomorrow when the Quints unveil themselves to the Autobots.

PROWL  
Why tomorrow? What are they waiting for?

STARSCREAM  
(fresh out of tact)  
Tomorrow's Autobot Independence Day you ninja ninny! Primus, maybe I did pick the wrong bot for-- OUCH!

Prowl furrows his brow questioningly as he hears a -smack- and some raspy feminine vocals laying into Starscream.

STARSCREAM  
(short)  
We'll be in touch. Starscream out.

Prowl shakes his head and take a few deep ventilations as he pries himself off the wall. He projects the newly downloaded base map on the inside of his visor, but before he can make sense of the image, a message flashes across it.

UNKNOWN_  
[You ask many questions to which you already know the answers.]_

The text isn't typical comm speak rather it glows an ethereal blue. It hovers in his vision field, even after he lifts his visor up and reveals his rarely seen narrow blue optics.

PROWL_  
[Who is this? Starscream? What are you talking about?]_

UNKNOWN_  
[You let your worries cloud your spark, my student.]_

A shudder travels down the ninja's chassis, leaving him cold, disbelieving and guilty.

PROWL  
(gasping)  
Master Yoketron.

Prowl's legs weaken and he braces himself on the wall, reading each word meticulously, verifying the realness of them. He leans his back into the wall then slides down to sit upon the floor.

PROWL_  
[Master Yoketron…is it truly you?]_

MASTER YOKETRON_  
[Search your spark, Prowl. What does it tell you?]_

Prowl drops his forehead to knees and ventilates heavily for an excruciatingly shameful moment.

PROWL_  
[Master…Why couldn't I join you in the Well? Did I fail you?]_

MASTER YOKETRON_  
[It was not your time, young one.]_

Prowl lifts his head slightly, a flood of questions filling his thoughts again.

PROWL_  
[Was my sacrifice in vain? Too impulsive, too careless? Should I have listened to Jazz?]_

MASTER YOKETRON_  
[Only you can answer that Prowl. I can only tell you it was not your time to enter the Well.]_

PROWL_  
[Why not? Why did it reject me? Why was I subjected to all this humiliation and indignity?]_

MASTER YOKETRON_  
[You were not rejected, Prowl, you were chosen. I do not expect you to understand this now, but you will.]_

Prowl carefully studies the words across his visor.

PROWL_  
[Chosen for what? What more can I do? I'm not a Prime. I never even graduated from the academy. My spark is tainted with selfishness and pride. What use am I to anyone?]_

MASTER YOKETRON_  
[Prowl. Even if I had answers to your questions, you cannot gain understanding from my words alone. It is not my place to reveal what you are to learn through time and experience.]_

Prowl shakes his head in hopelessness and hugs his knees to his body, his head dropping again in shame.

PROWL_  
[I try Master, but nothing makes sense anymore. I don't know who I can trust. I can no longer decipher my friends from my enemies.]_

MASTER YOKETRON_  
[That is not true. You know who your friends are and you know they need you right now. Many depend on you. The girl, the bounty hunter and the Decepticon have all risked much on your behalf. Do not dishonor their faith in you. _

PROWL_  
[But Master…I cannot--]_

MASTER YOKETRON_  
[You can and will. Self defeat is not in your programming…Get up, Prowl. Get up and rejoin your team.]_

**ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS - EXTREMELY UNEVENTFUL BREAKROOM**

Optimus Prime, Ratchet, and Bulkhead are seated together at one of many uneventful tables, exchanging expressions of impatience, frustration and all out boredom. Bumblebee has worn a circular groove into the floor where he has skated a ridiculously huge number of laps around the room.

BUMBLEBEE  
(speaking a single word each time he passes the occupied table)  
This…royally…sucks…Junkion…wastevalves. Why don't they give us an assignment?

Ratchet eyeballs the yellow bot with annoyance and resists the urge to shove a chair in the kid's path.

RATCHET  
Bellyaching about it won't solve anything now will it! Why don't you do something useful, like try calling Sari again.

Bumblebee screeches to a stop and taps his comm, his face a picture of rare pessimism.

BUMBLEBEE  
She's not gonna answer. She's probably sleeping. Anyone know what time it is on Earth?

BULKHEAD  
(chugging his fifth cube of military issue (low grade) energon)  
Depends on where ya are little buddy. Earth is weird, it has a bunch of timezo--

BUMBLEBEE  
Detroit, genius! Unless Sari has picked up and taken one of those caribou bean cruises.

RATCHET  
(shaking his head)  
Do you even bother to run a filter on your mouth before using it?

BUMBLEBEE  
You're one to talk!

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(fed up)  
Bumblebee, that's enough!

The Autobot leader rises from his chair and falls into his autonomous habit of pacing and chin rubbing. Bumblebee bites his lip, sensing his leader's frustration and amazingly holding back his next outburst. He rolls up behind Bulkhead, sheepishly elbowing him in the back.

BUMBLEBEE  
Sorry Bulky, didn't mean to be a jerk. (he plops down next to the lumbering mech) I'm just so slaggin bored. (looks to Optimus) Why couldn't we go with Jazz on the ninja recon mission?

BULKHEAD  
(speaking softly to his friend)  
Cuz we're not ninjas, I'm guessing.

BUMBLEBEE  
(sulking)  
Oh, right.

Static from Bumblebee's comm breaks the tension in the room. Everyone looks anxiously to the yellow bot.

BUMBLEBEE  
(into comm)  
Sari! That you?

SARI  
Bee! Omigosh omigosh you'll never believe where I am!

Optimus approaches Bumblebee with concern, leaning over to speak into the small bot's comm.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Sari, why haven't you been answering your comm?

SARI  
I think the transwarp energy made it go dead for a while.

BULKHEAD  
Transwarp energy?

BUMBLEBEE  
(concern rising)  
Sari, where are you?

SARI  
I'm on Cybertron!

OPTIMUS PRIME  
What! Where?

SARI  
(bubbling with excitement)  
I'm at a night club…with Lockdown. He's not as bad as Ratchet says. He's actu--

RATCHET  
(rises from seat, optics popped)  
Lockdown!…Sari are you alright? Has he kidnapped you?

A calming, baritone voice emerges from the doorway.

PROWL  
I assure you she is unharmed.

The room goes eerily silent as all eight unsuspecting blue optics lock on the unbelievable figure standing tall in the doorway. The silence is suddenly replaced with the ninja's name shouted in unison accompanied by the sounds of shifting chairs and varying weights of footsteps clambering across the floor. Prowl grows slightly fearful by the pile driving force of Bulkhead b-lining for him but he's unable to act before he's engulfed in a hulking bear hug, lifting him off the ground and squeezing with a force that would be painful if it weren't backed by so much affection. Bumblebee wraps around one of Prowl's dangling legs and Ratchet stands back and watches the pile up with a rare, heartfelt smile.

Optimus is the last to reach the scene, hesitant to join in the mirth until he knows for sure his teammate is for real. After one final squeeze, Bulkhead drops Prowl to his feet but before the ninja can regain his composure he's scooped up by two thick red arms and pressed into a firetruck windshield.

SARI  
(from Bumblebee's comm)  
Lemme guess, Prowl just found you guys.

Optimus breaks the hug but keeps Prowl close as he grips his hands on the sides of the Samurai helmet and looks over his friend in disbelief.

Prowl, despite being overwhelmed by the barrage of affection, smiles warmly at his leader. He basks in the calming moment of hope that could only be possible with the odd collection of mechs he calls family.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
But how, and when? And where did you find your helmet?

PROWL  
I have had the fortune of encountering a number of unsung heroes. (raising his voice) Isn't that right, Sari.

The Autobot leader's optics widen as he recalls spark stinging worry. He drops his hands to Prowl's shoulders and looks over the rest of his team.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Sari! We need to save her.

Prowl grips his prime's arm and looks reassuringly into his optics.

PROWL  
She is fine.

SARI  
(still squeaking from Bumblebee's comm)  
He's right guys. I've been making this crazy old mech sober up so he can drive me to Iacon.

BUMBLEBEE  
I am so confused.

BULKHEAD  
How did you get here Sari? And why are you--

SARI  
I came to talk sense into Prowl, and it worked…well, after Lockdown gave him his helmet back. I'll tell you the details later, right now we need to figure out how to save Cybertron from some squid things.

RATCHET  
(with worry)  
Squids? The Quintessons?

Everyone gathers around Bumblebee and attempts to comprehend the girl's words. Their faces contorting in varying degrees of perplexing except for Prowl who's fishing for a moment to speak.

SARI  
Yeah that's them. Apparently they're pretty bad, hasn't Prowl told you about them yet? They have some kind of nasty missile and giant invisible ship….oh, and they've captured the Decepticons, which I guess doesn't make them all bad, but--

PROWL  
(finally interjecting)  
Sari! I'll handle the explanation from here. Don't worry about coming to us, we'll come to you and make sure Lockdown doesn't drink anymore.

SARI  
He doesn't dare, not with ME on his case. I'll see you guys soon. I love you all and miss you, especially you Bumblebee!

BUMBLEBEE  
(still gaping in disbelief)  
Ditto kiddo. (the call ends and he turns to Prowl, optics widening) You left her with a drunken Decepticon!?

PROWL  
He is not a Decepticon.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(now gripping Prowl's arms desperately)  
What is she talking about Prowl? What missile? What ship and--

RATCHET  
And what about the Quintessons!?

PROWL  
(raising his voice over the chaos)  
They intend to hold the planet hostage in exchange for control of the crystal mines.

The Autobots look at each other questioningly.

BULKHEAD  
(skeptical)  
How do you take a planet hostage?

PROWL  
With a weapon of mass destruction.

RATCHET  
(doubtful)  
How is it you know this but the entire Elite Guard is in the dark?

PROWL  
Swindle told me. He was working for them but now he's one of us.

Bumblebee approaches the ninja and pats his head with pity.

BUMBLEBEE  
Dude, your processor is still glitching…pretty bad too.

Prowl pulls away from the prodding hand, his processor threatening to jumble up again.

PROWL  
I know…it may seem that way…but it's not…not in the way you think.

The ninja sighs, letting his body go limp, fully aware of the difficult explanation ahead of him.

PROWL  
While I was on board the Death's Head, Starscream discovered that I was cured of my organic contamination. Then, after a couple fruitless days of attempted mediation, I decided to go to Iacon, but Lockdown accosted me and gave me my helmet back, which was apparently all my processor needed to be broken of Chromia's spell.

Optimus Prime releases the ninja and turns away pinching his brow in pure confusion.

PROWL  
Look, I know it doesn't make any sense, but I'll explain it later. Right now we need a base-wide meeting to discuss what we're going to do about the Quintessons.

The prime shakes his head, his expression heavy with sadness.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Prowl…(meets the ninja's optics with concern) I can hardly call a meeting of that caliber with only your…highly unlikely testimony to go off of.

Prowl hangs his head, attempting to hide his frustrated defeat.

PROWL  
I knew it…I knew you wouldn't listen. Just…call Blackarachnia, have her explain it to you.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(not sure whether to be worried or irritated)  
Blackara-- what's she got to do with any--

Everyone is jolted as Sentinel's voice bursts over the intercom system.

SENTINEL  
Attention all Autobots! Please drop what you are doing and report to the Meeting Hall at once. An urgent matter of planetary security has been brought to our attention. It is mandatory that all Autobots attend this meeting, right now!

BUMBLEBEE  
What the spark is this about?

SENTINEL  
(continuing)  
If anyone has any information in regard to the Quintessons, I need you to report specifically to me on the double. I repeat all Autobots…

The announcement continues but Optimus Prime and his team tune it out as they look to Prowl with an exhausting mix of emotion. Optimus falls into the ninja, trapping him in another hug. Prowl, despite his inability to move, dims his optics in relief and lets a tiny smile push out of the corner of his mouth

PROWL  
(voice strained)  
Then…I take it you believe me now?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(voice barely louder than a whisper)  
Yes, Prowl…I'm sorry I doubted you…and I can't tell you how good it feels to have you back.

PROWL  
It is good to be back.


	27. Disorganized Crime

_A/N: More build up and tying off loose ends with a breeze of action._

_For those unfamiliar with a Quintesson's appearance, visit TFwiki dot com and search, yes you guessed it, the name Quintessons. That page lists their what each face looks like, and supplies some awesome canon facts. Although the only canon I really draw from are the names and the fact that most Transformers hate their guts._

_My apologies for sp/grammar errors in this and the next chapter. I was too impatient to wait for tEh huZband to beta read. =D  
_

**QUINTESSON WARSHIP – BRIDGE**

Deliberata hovers in his captain's chair in the center of the room. Sevax and Brinn are positioned in their respective places at the ship's console and Swindle leans carelessly into the railing surrounding the captain's chair. The three focus on the dealer, whose demeanor is typically pandering as he prattles on.

SWINDLE  
Your plan to address the Autobots during their Independence Day festivities is brilliant. As usual, they'll be pompously distracted in their overcharged revelries, too ignorantly buffed by their own hypocritical achievements to stop and wonder just how fragile their delusional little utopia is.

DELIBERATA  
(in Judgment face)  
Are you certain they will all be gathered in the main square?

SWINDLE

One-hundred percent certain. Well, all of them that matter anyway. There's always a handful of unpatriotic rebels who either protest the holiday or avoid the hubbub altogether.

DELIBERATA  
They are of no threat to us… (switching to Wisdom face). What is Chromia's latest report? Has the Elite Guard discovered our presence yet?

SWINDLE  
(his lies smooth as high grade)  
No sir, they are still in the dark. Chromia said they detected the signals of the ship's cloaking device, but they're assuming it belongs to Lockdown's ship.

Sevax twists around with a questioning expression on his Judgment face.

SEVAX  
Who?

BRINN  
(switching to Angry and snapping at Sevax)  
The bounty hunter you half-wit…the one whose ship we blew up.

SEVAX  
(switching to Anger face in retaliation)  
How DARE you question my intelligence, especially since you rely on a pathetic Decepticon to fill your role of scientist!

BRINN  
(switching to War face)  
It's call resourcefulness!

SEVAX  
Or laziness! I now see why the elders dismissed you as scientific advis—

BRINN  
Do not speak on matters which you're ignorant to!

Swindle watches the catfight with a smirk but Deliberata is not amused.

DELIBERATA  
(snapping to War face)  
Silence you ingrates!

The two heed their leader's request but continue to sneer their War faces at each other.

SWINDLE  
(chiming in with goading intention)  
Say, how come you guys never pull in resources from your home planet? Those Sharkticons would come in really handy as guards once we take the mines. Pit, I don't even think Megatron would take on a group of them. You think you could get the elders to transport some over or are they still holding that bounty over your heads?

Deliberata averts his frustration to the dealer.

DELIBERATA  
Do not try my patience, whelp! You know damn well of our situation with the elders.

SWINDLE  
(playing to regretful ignorance)  
Oh, that's right, my mistake, how foolish of me. I thought maybe by now you'd have restored some alliances, but I guess that's just wishful—

DELIBERATA  
(switching to Death face and glaring hotly at the dealer)  
Desist your vocalizations!

The Quintessons leader keeps his stare fixed on Swindle, reminding the dealer of the seriousness of the Death face. Swindle cowers a bit, feigning intimidation while stifling amusement at his creator's classically disorganized methods. Deliberata switches to Judgment, allowing his internal temperature to cool a notch.

DELIBERATA  
Why don't you make yourself useful and verify the comm frequency jammer is still functioning properly.

SWINDLE  
(crossing his arms in confidence)  
Two steps ahead of ya there Boss. I checked it earlier…no calls coming or going from this ship or the arena that don't originate from me. I…hope you don't mind that I use my comm to talk with my fighters. They constantly need me to boost their confidence before matches and—

SEVAX  
(interrupting the dealer with irritation)  
Swindle! Your blather is useless!... (turning to his leader). Sir, isn't it time Brinn checked on our slave and the prisoner. I am not comfortable with leaving them unattended in for extended periods of time, especially in a room unguarded by our defenses. (sliding a glare to Brinn) Perhaps if someone would've equipped the lab as well with—

BRINN  
(anger bubbling through his War face)  
Why would I equip my own laboratory with defensive weapons? And why must I personally babysit them when we have surveillance equipment?

Sevax holds tight to his War face and pulls the lab's video feed onto their main monitor.

SEVAX  
Because our slave found a way to tamper with it.

The image on the screen is not a live feed of the lab's activity, rather a blown-up still image of a seeker's hand with its middle talon stiffly pointing upward. Deliberata and Brinn's optics brighten with insult while Sevax looks at the image with questioning. Swindle chuckles, slapping his hand over his mouth to quiet the burst of laughter.

SWINDLE  
Nice display of Earth culture there.

SEVAX  
I'm not sure what that means, but I don't think he's pleased with us.

BRINN  
Perhaps if you hadn't further tortured him after his arrival, he may not be so defiant.

Sevax switches to a wide-eyed Anger face and signals Brinn with flailing tentacles to stop speaking.

DELIBERATA  
(glaring at Sevax with his Judgement face)  
Further tortured? What is he talking about, Sevax?

Sevax cowers guiltily, switching to Wisdom face and attempting a sheepish grin.

SEVAX  
Nothing, really…I just double-checked the functionality of his wing restraints after we put them on. You can never be too certain, besides…he needed to put be put in his place. His ego is far too--

DELIBERTA  
(lecturing disdainfully)  
You are a sadistic degenerate, Sevax. You very well may have jeopardized our future use of his brilliant intellect with your disgusting fetishes. One would think you'd learned after the incident with Chromia so long ago. I am amazed she agreed to work with us at all.

BRINN  
(switching to Judgment face as joins in lecturing Sevax)  
She probably wants back in our ranks so she can finally take her proper revenge on you.

Swindle winces at the rehashing of the horrendous actions performed on his old partner. He questions why she would so easily agree to work for these monsters again, but then it dawns on him. She played him, just like she plays everybody. She never intended to join them but saw an opportunity ripe for strategically playing all the fields…clever little brat. The dealer can only imagine the scrap storm he has to look forward with her. Prowl has no doubt addressed his grudge against her, which means the cat's out of the bag as far as who she now knows is responsible for blowing her cover to the ninja. Swindle decides it's probably better, for the safety of his own precious processor that the Autobots toss her in the stockades once all this apocalyptic stuff has blown over…if it blows over.

DELIBERATA  
Enough pointless discussion on the matter. Brinn, go check on the Decepticons and see to it the lab's surveillance is restored to proper working order.

Brinn reluctantly nods and floats his way across the bridge toward the doors, avoiding the pompous smirk Sevax was tossing him. Swindle peels himself off the railing and follows Brinn.

SWINDLE  
If you don't mind, I'd like to join you.

Brinn looks over his lack of shoulder, eyeballing the dealer skeptically.

BRINN  
What for!? You'll only infuriate them with your traitorous presence and I refuse to get stuck in the middle of a brawl.

They exit the bridge, door hissing behind them and make their way down the corridor to the elevator.

SWINDLE  
(aloof)  
Grow a pair will ya. Everyone needs a good brawlin' once in a while.

Brinn halts and switches to Angry face, shock and insult brightening his optics.

SWINDLE  
(stops and looks back with a huge grin)  
It was a joke, ya ol'eggheaded sourpuss. Geez, learn to lighten up.

They enter the elevator, Brinn still huffing with his Anger face and Swindle still smiling satisfactorily. The dealer casually lifts his hand to discretely tap his comm.

**QUINTESSON SHIP – LABORATORY**

Starscream is stationed at the converter, next to him is a small stack of energon cubes. Blackarachnia sits at the table filling yet another empty cube with her spider webbing, her body a picture of exhaustion.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(wearily)  
How much more do you need to transmute to appear convincing? I'm running out of steam.

Starscream pulls a filled cube from the machine and adds it to the stack.

STARSCREAM  
(sarcastic –as always)  
Would you rather I use your body?

The spider's optics widen at the suggestion and she forces herself not to be intrigued by a possible second meaning.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(playing insulted)  
You…shouldn't even joke about that!

She brings the cube to her peculiar partner, placing it in his talons without meeting his optics then retreating back to her table to fill another cube. Starscream watches her curiously, surprised his sarcasm didn't earn him another slap across the face.

STARSCREAM  
If you're tired, drink some energon.

She shakes her head in annoyed confusion.

BLACKARACHNIA  
But…won't that defeat the purpose of what we're doing? (she looks at him, her four optics refreshing as her processor spins) What's the point of draining my energy filling these cube if I just end up drinking the energon? Sounds like a waste of All Spark power to me.

Starscream rolls his optics and tosses her a full cube, which she catches clumsily.

STARSCREAM  
If you're tired, then drink. And don't bother filling anymore…we have enough to prove the thing works. You'll need your strength.

Blackarachnia doesn't hesitate to sip from the cube, her optics dimming in pleasure at the smooth taste.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(voice soft as she feels the energon course through her)  
What about you? You need to refuel too.

STARSCREAM  
(flipping switches and turning nobs, with a light smirk)  
So you plan on drinking that entire cube yourself? A little selfish don't you think?

Her optics illuminate as she's mid-gulp and she yanks the cube from her lips, pink liquid trailing down her chin. She holds the cube up and studies the liquid's level, wincing slightly that she drank more than half. She slumps her shoulders guiltily then gives Starscream her most apologetic face.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Slaggit Starscream, why didn't you say something before I…

STARSCREAM  
(looking over his shoulder with a playful smile)  
Before you what? Made a glutton of yourself?...Oh, I don't know…I just thought you'd think of someone other than yourse—

Starscream's teasing is interrupted by a silent comm message.

SWINDLE_  
[incoming Brinn. You guys ready?]_

Starscream scurries to the table, grabbing the cube and downing the energon in one shot, spilling some down his cockpit. He slams the cube down, his focus whipping to the door. The spider watches him questioningly.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(with a raised brow)  
That was…abrupt.

Starscream snaps his hand to her mouth, shushing her while still focusing on the door.

STARSCREAM  
They're coming. (turns to her and grabs her arms, looking earnestly into her wide optics) Are you ready for this? We need to act quickly.

She peers around his head as the sound of Swindle's muffled voice draws closer.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(meeting his optics again)  
Yes, I'm ready…are YOU ready?

Starscream releases her and points toward the door.

STARSCREAM  
Of course I am. Stand over there. (she rises and glides toward the door, her ventilation rate increasing slightly) As soon as they enter you attack. DON'T hesitate or we'll lose the element of surprise.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(with a snooty sneer)  
I know how an ambush works.

Starscream moves to the other side of the door just as it hisses open to reveal Swindle and Brinn. The instant the two step in, Starscream snatches Swindle away from Quintesson and Blackarachnia pounces on him, impaling him with her stingers. Brinn shrieks then immediately collapses, his levitation giving out which sends him to the floor with a thud. His egg-shape body rolls slightly as the spider stands over his pathetic tangle of limp tentacles.

SWINDLE  
(impressed)  
Nice pounce, sweethear—

BLACKARACHNIA  
(with a heated hiss)  
Shut it! I'm not through being mad at you!

Starscream pulls Prowl's hologram mod from his cockpit and quickly scans the unconscious alien. He's about to fasten the mod to his chest when a realization hits him, leaving his expression awash in worry.

STARSCREAM  
(looking to the spider)  
We should disguise you instead, make you look like me and I'll just seek out the WMD without a disguise.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(disapproving)  
What? (straightens up from her lingering attack posture and meets Starscream's optics with equal concern) No. If they catch you snooping around their weapon, they'll…

STARSCREAM  
(unaffected)  
They'll throw me back in here, maybe torture me. Big deal. (he hands the mod to Swindle) I can handle their pathetic attempts of punishment. Now scan me.

Swindle shrugs obligingly and runs the scan.

STARSCREAM  
Ooo, that tickles.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(protesting)  
No, Starscream. Absolutely not. (she snatches the mod from Swindle and attempts a scan on Brinn) You can't take anymore torture, it'll weaken you too much.

Starscream snatches the mod mid-scan and projects its image onto the spider. Her appearance shifts to an image of Starscream's body with Brinn's head.

STARSCREAM  
Dammit woman! (shoves the mod back in Swindle's hands) Scan me again!

Blackarachnia holds out her arms, her Quintesson face gawking at the blue and black masculine arms. Swindle scans the seeker again then projects the image onto her, her alien head replaced with Starscream's.

STARSCREAM  
(looking her over)  
Ahh, much better…and quite handsome.

The imposter Starscream plants her hands on her hips as Swindle attaches the mod to her back.

BLACKARACHNIA  
This is a waste! If one of the others come in here while you're gone, then won't they be suspicious that I'M not in the room?

Starscream circles her, eyeballing his own image approvingly, but slightly put off at seeing himself speak with her voice.

STARSCREAM  
Wrap the squid up in your webbing and say it's you. Say that spiders do that when they feel threatened or something like that.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(turning to face him, concern in her voice)  
But…if they catch you and bring you back here while I'm in disguise, then our plans will be totally blown. Look, Starscream, I appreciate the chivalry, but it's counterproductive to our original plan.

Starscream glances to Swindle with a surprised grin.

STARSCREAM  
Well then. Someone thinks pretty highly of herself.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(with a frustrated sigh)  
Think about it Starscream, it makes more sense if you—

Swindle reaches the supply drawer on his chest and pulls out a mod, similar in size to Prowl's.

SWINDLE  
(interrupting)  
If you BOTH have one. (he scans Brinn with new mod then projects the image onto Starscream) There now, problem solved.

Both of the disguised Decepticons looks to Swindle, drop jawed.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You had one all along?

STARSCREAM  
Why the spark didn't you tell us?

SWINDLE  
(shrugging it off)  
Because I thought you only needed one…why I would give away a perfectly good piece of merchandise—

STARSCREAM  
(fed up)  
Enough! (points a tentacle to his egghead) Which face am I wearing?

SWINDLE  
A hostile one.

STARSCREAM  
That won't do. I need to appear calm. (he drifts over to Brinn, his red and black demonic face cringing as he analyzes his choices) Which one is calm?

SWINDLE  
The one pressed into the floor.

Starscream gestures at Swindle, backing away from the alien.

STARSCREAM  
Then…roll him over…scan that face.

The dealer backs up a few steps, his expression shouting nausea.

SWINDLE  
I'm not touching him!

BLACKARACHNIA  
Oh for spark's sake you big protoforms! (she kicks the alien with her jetted foot so the Wisdom face is pointing upward) Scan him already, we're wasting time. My venom's paralysis only lasts half a mega cycle.

SWINDLE  
(apprehensive)  
He uh…needs to have that face active or the projected image will make it appear he's moving around sideways.

Without a second though, Blackarachnia crouches down and grips her seeker talons over the faces, forcing the Wisdom face to the front. Starscream backs up even more, tentacles writhing as he witnesses the spectacle.

STARSCREAM  
Ugghhhh, she's touching him…and it looks like I'M touching him.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Grow up! (looks to Swindle and steps away from the alien) Okay scan him.

Swindle obliges and Starscream's Wrath face is replaced with Wisdom.

STARSCREAM  
(pouting)  
Why are they so ugly when they're calm?

SWINDLE  
They're ugly no matter what mood they're in. (He secures the mod onto Starscream's back) Let's go. Time is short.

They head for the door, Swindle keying in the code to open it. Starscream turns to the seeker spider, gesturing at Brinn.

STARSCREAM  
Wrap him up like we discussed, and make it look like it's your alt form underneath.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I got it! (she motions to fire her webs at the alien but pauses to look to Starscream with concern, her voice softening) Be careful, okay?

Starscream nods sincerely to her and the two mechs leave the room.


	28. Alliance

_A/N: So, Autobot angst is no longer on the top of my list of 'out of my comfort zone.' Cramming every Autobot know to TFA into one room with a million loose ends to tie up takes precedence. _

_Oh ya, and Sentinel is still a jerk. I'm sorry I wasn't creative enough to break his stereotype. =/_

**ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS – MEETING HALL**

The hall is massive, filled with row after row of graduated seating that encircles a center stage. Nearly all the seats are filled with Elite Guard members, from grunts fresh out of the academy to high-ranking officials. The empty seats are those normally occupied by the small band of Cyber Ninjas, who couldn't make the meeting because they're still out on the recon mission. Standing proud on the center stage is Sentinel Magnus, accompanied by Alpha Trion, Perceptor and a cuffed Chromia.

Optimus Prime and his team are seated together only a few rows back from the center. They focus acutely on their Magnus as the royal blue bot commands the meeting with his typical bureaucratic jargon, thanking everyone for attending and pressing the importance of the new developments. Most of the audience is on the verge of shouting 'if it's so urgent then get to the slaggin' point' but they tactfully refrain, some finding it harder than others. Optimus eyeballs the fidgety yellow bot seated next to him.

BUMBLEBEE  
(whispering through clamped teeth)  
Dying here, Bossbot…when's he gonna cut the crap and make the announcement?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(whispering in his calming leader tone)  
This is how it works here, Bumblebee. You get used to it after a while. Judging by his uncomfortable shift of stance, I'd venture to guess he's about to wrap up the preliminaries and finally address some important issues.

The Magnus finishes his last pre-scripted thought then turns to look at Chromia, gesturing to her as if to put her on display for the large gathering of questioning optics.

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
Now! Onto more important issues. (he sneers at Chromia, still hung up on his disgust at her betrayal) Agent Chromia, or rather DOUBLE Agent Chromia here has been working for the Decepticons. It seems treachery has become the latest fad among our Intelligence officers.

There's a wave of mumbles across the audience and an array of mixed expressions from shock to confusion to anger. Chromia tries to ignore the many disapproving stares on her and takes a deep inhaling ventilation as she holds her head high, attention disdainfully locked on Sentinel's glare.

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
Under normal circumstances, she would be thrown into the stockades and await trial, but unfortunately, events on Cybertron as of late haven't been normal. We have learned of a Quintesson presence in Kaon, one that is potentially threatening.

The crowd reacts with more gasps and the mumbling grows louder.

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
Please, hear me out before you jump to any conclusions. We have the situation under control.

Optimus's team look at each other in doubt, shaking their head at the Magnus's obvious stretching of the truth.

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
Agent Chromia here has a unique history with the despicable aliens and I would like you to give her your undivided attention while she explains, in detail, just who these Quintessons are and what impact their race has on our current society.

Chromia resists the urge roll her optics, internally cursing the clueless Magnus for his inappropriately scholastic introduction to their apocalyptic situation. The Autobots don't need a lecture on anthropology, they need a wake-up call to the frailty of their precious little utopia. A side of her is almost grateful for the squid threat. It's slowly bridging the gap between the factions. Despite the humiliation of appearing in cuffs before all her peers, she feels a sense of pride to be an instrumental role of these potentially history-making turn of events. She ventures to label this feeling with nobility but decides that might be pushing it. With another ventilation, she readies herself to speak, but a private comm message appears before she can open her mouth.

PROWL  
_[Do not mention Starscream as an ally. Tell them Blackarachnia is our spy.]_

She bitterly eyeballs the blue optic visor staring at her across the room.

CHROMIA  
_[Why?]_

PROWL  
_[Which one of them are you more inclined to trust?]_

Her expression softens as she yields a slight nod to her old flame.

CHROMIA  
_[Good point.]_

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
(impatiently tapping his foot as he holds his glare on the femme)  
Feel free to speak whenever you're ready, Agent Chromia.

CHROMIA  
(ignoring Sentinel and turning to address the crowd)  
When your Magnus speaks of Quintessons, I don't think he realizes which Quintessons we're dealing with here.

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
What? What are you talking about? You said the Quintessons have a weapon of mass destruction. You didn't what kind of Quin--

The room fills with more gasps and mumbles, cutting the Magnus off he realizes the news he just tactlessly spewed forth. Optimus and Prowl both drops their head into their hands.

CHROMIA  
(rolling her optics)  
Good one, chief.

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
(addressing the crowd with some backpeddling)  
Calm down everyone, please…there's no need to panic. We haven't received any official threats yet, all we know for certain is that they are in Kaon, hiding out in a cloaked warship.

More gasps and mumbles at the mention of a warship.

Cliffjumper rises from his seat, his attitude typically brash and straight to the point.

CLIFFJUMPER  
Sir, with all due respect, if the squids have a WMD, how is it we're 'in control of the situation'?

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
(snapping with insult)  
Mind your rank, soldier! Remember who it is you're speaking to.

Rodimus stands up next to his small, scrappy soldier.

RODIMUS PRIME  
Magnus, sir, could you please answer his question.

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
You mind your rank as well, Rodimu—

Alpha Trion steps forward, placing a firm hand Sentinel's shoulder and speaking only in earshot of him.

ALPHA TRION  
Answer the question, Magnus. Your soldiers have a right to know what we know.

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
(responding quietly but defiantly to the old bot)  
But we don't know for sure. Nothing official has been confirmed. All we have to go on is Chromia's unreliable testimony.

Several more Autobots rise from the crowd, all repeating Rodimus's words 'answer the question.'

Sentinel looks over the disorder with worry and cowardice.

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
Everybody calm down…the WMD threat is only a rumor.

CHROMIA  
(speaking loud, intentionally putting the spotlight on the Magnus)  
It's not a rumor! Why don't you tell them!? Isn't that the whole reason you called this meeting?

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
(stubbornly maintains a fake sense of control)  
We have no proof of its existence yet. And I called this meeting simply to discuss the Quintesson presence on this planet, not to plant seeds of widespread panic.

Prowl can't take anymore and, to his complete surprise, finds himself rising from his seat.

PROWL  
(shouting over the rising hysteria)  
There will be much more to panic about if all of Iacon is to learn of the impending danger by the enemy themself, rather than their own Magnus!

The crowd quiets down, all optics locked on the improbably bot.

PROWL  
(continuing with questionable confidence)  
The Quintessons are planning to unveil themselves tomorrow. They intend to mock our celebration of freedom by announcing the reality that they, indeed, have a WMD missile pointed directly at the city and that they intend to use it if we don't surrender control of the mines to them.

The silence hangs in the room. Everybot swears they can hear the fear building in each other's sparks.

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
(snapping at Prowl, unconvinced)  
Where do you get your information, ninjabot?

Optimus Prime rises up, his form towering over the ninja yet exuding an air of confidence for his friend.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
We have a reliable source on board the Quintesson ship.

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
(shouting in skepticism)  
A reliable source? What the frag is that supposed to mean, Optimus?

Before Optimus can defensively retort, a series of canon blasts erupts from the ceiling. Everyone snaps their attention up to witness in shock as a portion of the domed ceiling blazes red hot then finally disintegrates to reveal a gaping hole. Sentinel equips his shield and corrals Alpha Trion, Perceptor and Chromia to stand behind him. The sounds of every other Autobot unsheathing their weapons sweeps across the room.

The smoke is too dense to see what is responsible for attack, but the mystery is solved when a black fusion cannon falls through the chaos and lands directly in front of the Magnus's feet. Chromia gasps, knowing exactly who that signature weapon belongs to, as does Optimus and his team. They look up and watch with wondering as the infamous Decepticon leader hovers down, his spinning rotors sending severe wind gusts throughout the room.

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
Autobots! Ready your weapons and attack on my mark!

Chromia steps out from behind the Magnus's shield, her cuffed hands held out in protest.

CHROMIA  
No wait!

Megatron transforms and touches confidently down in the center of the room, his hands held out in a peaceful gesture of surrender.

SENTINEL  
(grinding his teeth fearfully)  
Ready…

Chromia studies every inch of her muse with awe and immediately notices his injured leg.

CHROMIA  
(pleading to Sentinel)  
Please, don't attack him…Look at him! He's disarmed himself…he never does that! And he's injured…He hasn't come here to fight!

Megatron glances gratefully to the femme then furrows his brow at the sight of her cuffs. He limps over to her and lifts her hands by the cuffs with a single, powerful finger.

MEGATRON  
(speaking quietly to her)  
What is this?

She can only shrug in shame, too intimidated to speak.

Sentinel has never faced the tyrant before when he wasn't incapacitated from stasis cuffs and regretfully finds himself frozen, hiding with the other council members behind his shield, which has expanded to it maximum circumference.

Megatron can sense the pathetic Autobot commander's cowardice and doesn't feel the need to even look his direction. He breaks the link between Chromia's cuffs with an effortless pinch and she nearly collapses into a pile of enamored goo. He then turns his focus away to pan across the room, searching for a more dignified recipient of his attention then the shuddering mech bearing the title Magnus. He locks optics to Optimus Prime and, with surprising dignity, limps across the floor to approach his familiar foe.

MEGATRON  
The femme speaks the truth. My intensions are not hostile.

Rodimus is not one to be easily intimidated and he leaves his seat, walking confidently toward the tyrant.

RODIMUS PRIME  
Then why did you blast a hole in our roof?

Megatron looks over his shoulder to the source of the annoyance.

MEGATRON  
Because I highly doubt you would have let me in the front door.

Sentinel drudges enough courage to speak now that the Decepticon's attention is directed elsewhere.

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
H—How did you get past Fortress Maximus's security parameter?

MEGATRON  
I flew, now are there anymore useless questions or do you wish know why I am here?

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
(under his breath)  
B—but that doesn't…how did he.

PERCEPTOR  
(from behind Sentinel's shoulder, speaking in antique robotic voice)  
There is no one currently manning Fortress Maximus's defenses. All of our forces are in this room right now.

Alpha Trion fearlessly steps out from behind Sentinel's shield, his attention directed at Megatron.

ALPHA TRION  
I know why you are here. (he pauses to look out over the crowd then raises his voice) Stow your weapons fellow Autobots. There is no need for them now.

Sentinel winces doubtfully at the old bot's suggestion and holds fast to his lance and shield.

ALPHA TRION  
(gestures respectfully to Prowl)  
If this brave young soldier's testimony is correct…and I believe it is, then the enemy is not standing before us now.

Optimus stands tall from his elevated position in the third row, looking down on Megatron, but unlike their previous confrontations, he doesn't feel fear, loathing or pity. The Decepticon returns his gaze with enough alteration of his typically stoic face to convey the desperation he is feeling. The prime's spark suppresses the justifiable grudges he should feel for this mech and instead fills him with empathy and an odd sense of connection. They have every right to be enemies, their opinions toward Cybertron's future different as day from night; accept for one aspect. Cybertron's future did not belong in the tentacles of alien race.

Optimus retracts the handle to his axe then replaces it upon his back. His signals his crew to put their weapons away and, after a moment of apprehension, they do so obligingly. A few Autobots surrounding them follow suit and this triggers a slow, reactive wave of disarming across the room. Within less than a cycle, the entire room, outside the Magus, has stowed their weapon and a strange, optimistic calm fills the air.

Megatron pans his attention across the room, fighting to suppress the awe he's feeling from showing through his face. He knows the Autobots rely heavily on teamwork; this is the reason he came to them for help, but he doesn't realize until this moment just how bonded in brotherhood they really are. He shifts uneasily at the hint of envy pinging his spark.

Alpha Trion kneels down and picks up the fusion cannon at his feet. He glides over to Megatron and hands the weapon to him with a firm but accepting nod.

ALPHA TRION  
We have been united by a common foe.

Megatron accepts the offering, returning the gesture with the slightest of nods then attaches the weapon to its rightful position on his arm.

MEGATRON  
(respectfully)  
Indeed we have.

The ancient Autobot steps aside, offering the center stage to the Decepticon.

MEGATRON  
Thank you Alpha Trion. Your trust will not be forgotten. (raises his voice to address the masses) I assume this meeting was assembled to discuss the Quintesson threat?

ALPHA TRION  
That is correct.

MEGATRON  
Then you are aware of their destructive capabilities and lust for our mines?

ALPHA TRION  
Yes, and we know they intend announce their terms tomorrow during out holiday celebration.

MEGATRON  
(with a sneer)  
How predictably overdramatic. (raising his voice again) How did you learn of this?

Optimus Prime works his way down to the main floor and approaches Megatron.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
From Blackarachnia.

The Decepticon turns to face prime but stumbles slightly as his injured leg buckles. He immediately regains his composure, attempting to play off his weakened state.

MEGATRON  
How is this possible? She is a prisoner on their ship.

Optimus didn't miss a beat. He reaches over his shoulder, pulling his axe out once again and extending the handle to its maximum length. He holds it out vertically to Megatron, nodding his head at the mech's wounded leg as he does so.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
She's able use to her comm and has been communicating with Prowl.

Megatron refuses the Autobot's makeshift crutch and furrows his brow in confusion at the new information presented to him.

MEGATRON  
What kind of ignorance allows their prisoner to communicate with the outside world? How do we know she's not misleading your ninjabot.

PROWL  
(speaking out from across the room)  
Because she has help…from Swindle.

Megatron glances to Prowl with skepticism then focuses back on Optimus Prime.

MEGATRON  
Swindle cannot be trusted.

CHROMIA  
(confidently)  
Yes he can.

She approaches the group with apprehension in her step, but her voice is firm.

CHROMIA  
He does not wish a fateful demise of this planet anymore than we do.

PROWL  
I believe this to be true as well. (he joins the gathering on the floor) He has proven himself a valuable asset to us but the Quintessons believe he is still sided with them.

CHROMIA  
They still believe I am their ally as well.

MEGATRON  
Then it appears we are at an advantage. What else do we know of these particular Quintessons?

The room hangs in silence but several glances shift to the incalculable femme. Chromia takes her cue with pride and steps up to stand tall next to her towering commander. She wedges her shoulder under the mighty black hand, signaling the wounded gladiator to shift some weight off his leg and onto her. Megatron relents to accept the offering, lightly groaning in relief as his pain is slightly lessened.

The femme wants nothing more then to bask in what is probably the best moment of her functioning but she forces the diplomat in her to stay in the driver's seat and shifts her attention to the masses of optics awaiting an answer from her.

CHROMIA  
The three Quintessons we are dealing with are rogues. Their own race sees them as nothing but criminals and put a steep bounty on their heads long ago. Everything they have, their ship, their weapons…all stolen from Quintessa. They appear powerful up front but they are nothing without their technology. Their methods are sloppy and disorganized, but they're too arrogant to know any different. We have a unique advantage over them (looking reverently to Megaton) especially now. Their warship cowers in comparison to the combined power of Fortress Maximus AND the Decepticon forces. If Swindle and Blackarachnia are truly capable of disarming their WMD, then we will have nothing to fear.

Alpha Trion nods approvingly to the femme.

ALPHA TRION  
Well spoken, Agent Chromia…(addresses the crowd in his wise, commanding air) Does anyone else have anything more to add on the matter?

The room responds with silent head shaking and curious glances to each other.

ALPHA TRION  
Then we shall now adjourn this meeting. I request everybot return to their respective posts and be doubly alert to any possible breeches of our defenses. (turns to Megatron) I require our new ally be treated by our top medics and shown the same level of respect as any fellow Autobot…(looks down to Chromia) And I would like a top notch team of Intelligence agents assembled to work closely with Agent Chromia and see to it she is able to maintain her covert status as she communicates with the enemy.

Sentinel had finally lowered his shield after receiving several disapproving glares from Optimus Prime, yet he never stowed his lance…at least not until now once he realizes Alpha Trion is looking at him disapprovingly.

ALPHA TRION  
Sentinel Magus…if I am not mistaken, we have a team of cyber ninjas that may be at risk of capture.

SENTINEL MAGNUS  
(optics widening)  
Oh Primus that's right! They've got to be nearing Kaon by now! (activates his comm) Jazz, come in!

Alpha Trion walks back over to Optimus Prime, placing a confident hand on his shoulder.

ALPHA TRION  
Optimus Prime. I would like you to lead the Intelligence team and report all communication with Blackarachnia and Swindle to Perceptor for further analysis.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
It would be my honor sir…however I have one request. (hesitates briefly as he feels the weight of the room's attention on him). I fear I cannot perform at my maximum potential…(looks back over his shoulder to his mismatched comrades) unless my team is working closely by my side.

ALPHA TRION  
Very well, they will join you in the Intelligence division. (turns to address the masses, one final time) Fellow Autobots! I leave you to your duties with one final thought…tomorrow is the day we celebrate our Independence. Let us not allow anyone to deny us this hard-earned right of our freedom.

The room fills with warm cheers of patriotism as the collection of soldiers stream down from the seating and funnel out the exit. Ratchet waits for some of the crowd to let up before waddling down to the main floor and approaching Megatron. With his magnifying monocle, he looks over the tyrant's wound carefully.

RATCHET  
Nuthin' more than a quick patch job. (meets the mech's optics) There anything else wrong with ya, besides the obvious?

MEGATRON  
Yes…your superior's final words have left me quite nauseous.

Ratchet, Prowl and Optimus all fight to stifle a smile. Bumblebee skates down to join his comrades, screeching to a stop and eager to burst with his pressing thought.

BUMBLEBEE  
Phew! Here I thought I was the only one.


	29. Priorities

_A/N: I got nothing...besides being a hopeless Starscream fangirl._

**QUINTESSON WARSHIP – MISSILE BAY**

Swindle and a disguised Starscream crouch over a seemingly impenetrable missile, looking back and forth between it and each other, their expressions (or at least Swindle's) a portrayal of frustration. The weapon's length is equal to the seeker's alt mode and it's housed in a highly secured but transparent casing. The mechs can see every detail of the menacing weapon but they are unable to access it.

SWINDLE  
This (rapping lightly on the casing) is not good. If we attempt to breech this, it'll trigger the alarms.

STARSCREAM  
Can't you open it up from the bridge controls?

SWINDLE  
(sarcastically)  
Sure…if they gave me the access codes and let me even go _near_ the console.

STARSCREAM  
(quick to problem solve)  
What about the trigger mechanism?...(looking up to meet Swindle's hopeless optics) Is there a way to deactivate it?

SWINDLE  
(shaking his head and tapping the casing again)  
Trigger's inside.

STARSCREAM  
(tentacles slamming on the floor in frustration)  
Blast it! There must be something we can do.

SWINDLE  
This missile, to put it in a technical term, is a bitch.

If Starscream actually was a Quintesson, his face would be switching to whichever one would respond with a look of 'what!?".

SWINDLE  
Think of it this way. You're at a high class joint, sipping your overpriced spritzer, minding your Ps and Qs and then, from across the room, you see this picture of beauty. The loveliest femme you've ever laid optics on. She's not the like broads of Kaon who're easily won over by a single can of low-grade, oh no. This one takes some work.

Starscream's tentacles start twitching in impatience but he vents deeply, allowing the dealer to continue.

SWINDLE  
She's basically unapproachable, her exterior is impenetrable. She ain't letting you anywhere close…without the right moves.

Starscream gestures his tentacles in a 'make your point quickly' way.

SWINDLE  
(signature smile forming)  
However…once you get her outta her shell, she's vulnerable to attack. You can manipulate her any way you like.

STARSCREAM  
(now fully impatient)  
Is this analogy really necessary!?

SWINDLE  
(shrugs)  
Not really, but my point is…once this baby is cut loose, all it has to depend on is its guidance system, which SUCKS. Whoever designed this missile put top notch effort into its pre-launch state but when the time came to rig up its guidance mechanism, they must've been (gestures a drinking motion) hittin' the cube a little too hard.

STARSCREAM  
What are you saying? We have to launch the missile to have any chance of disarming it?

SWINDLE  
Oh no, there's no disarming after that. All I'm saying is that it can easily be redirected.

STARSCREAM  
You mean hack into the control console and guide it ourselves?

SWINDLE  
Nah, I mean physically redirect its trajectory.

Starscream's reaction to this is masked by his disguise, preventing Swindle from seeing whether his explanation is sinking in.

SWINDLE  
Your thrusters are more than adequate to--

STARSCREAM  
THAT is not an option…and neither is launching it. It's too risky. We need to find another way.

SWINDLE  
(doubting)  
I'm all audio if you can think of something.

**LABORATORY**

Blackarachnia, disguised as Starscream, secures the web-wrapped Quintesson in her nest in the far corner of the room. She keeps anxiously watching the door and fidgeting impatiently. Finally the door hisses open, but the Quintesson emerging from behind it is not the hologramed one she would like it to be.

Sevax enters the lab, attempting a pompous air of control. He looks upon the seeker standing over the nest and switches to a questioning Judgement face.

SEVAX  
Is that the prisoner?!

Blackarachnia's spark begins racing. She never stopped to think how she would disguise her voice but she makes her best attempt, dropping her pitch as much as possible.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Um…yes.

SEVAX  
(approaching the oddly timid seeker)  
Why is she wrapped up? What's wrong with her?

She steps back to a more comfortable proximity, annoyed how these aliens have no concept of personal space.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(trying to play indifference with a shrug)  
I'm…not really sure…it's some sort of organic…thing.

SEVAX  
(looking the seeker over skeptically)  
What's the matter with your voice? It's lower than normal.

Blackarachnia's not sure who that's technically an insult to.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I'm…tired?

Sevax is not convinced. He circles around the seeker, eyeballing every inch of the chassis then pulls a device from a pouch on his body.

**CORRIDOR**

Starscream and Swindle move briskly down the hallway, the lab's door barely visible at the far end. Starscream suddenly shrieks and pain and stumbles, his hologram fading away and the wing restraints crackling wildly with static shocks. He falls into the wall, cringing and groaning as the assault continues. Swindle whips around to witness the writhing seeker, his optics widening as he realizes what's happening.

SWINDLE  
They know!

The static stops and Starscream drops his head in relief but remains leaning against the wall as the residual pain courses through him. Swindle wraps the seeker's arm over his shoulder and pulls him off the wall.

SWINDLE  
Come on, we gotta get to the lab.

Starscream forces his feet to stagger into a quick but limping stride as he leans into Swindle, but after only a few steps, the assault starts again. He drops to knees, doubling over and suppressing his screams behind clamped teeth.

**LABORATORY**

Blackarachnia, still disguised, stands motionless, watching the Quintesson slam the button on the device. He points it her, War face seething as he doesn't get his intended reaction. It finally dawns on the spider what he's doing and this fills her with rage. She fiercely pounces on Sevax, her hologram disappearing as her stingers impale the unsuspecting alien's body. Sevax hollars and falls limp. She lands on top of him, fangs bared and body crouching like a feral beast.

Swindle and Starscream appear in the doorway, the dealer's arms wrapped around the seeker and practically dragging him. Blackarachnia straightens up at the sight of this and dashes toward them, immediately helping support Starscream's weight.

STARSCREAM  
(head hung, speaking weakly)  
You okay?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Am I…Are _you_ okay? What happened? Did you find the missile?

Swindle releases his hold on Starscream as the spider guides the broken body to the table.

STARSCREAM  
Yes, but we couldn't access it.

He slumps onto the stool and flops his body on the table's surface. She keeps her arms wrapped around him and looks worriedly into his half-lit optics.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Then...we're still at square one?

STARSCREAM  
Not exactly.

Swindle shuts the door and paces nervously glancing back and forth between the unconscious Quintessons, his hand fidgeting erratically.

SWINDLE  
Oh boy oh boy, we've gotta mess on our hands. (looks to the femme) How soon before Brinn comes to?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(still focused on Starscream)  
Anytime now.

STARSCREAM  
(barely audible)  
We need a plan.

SWINDLE  
(still pacing)  
Oh, you think?! (approaches the table, wide purple optics fixed on the spider) Do you have some kind of amnesia venom you can inject into them?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Not…exactly…but my victims usually have short term memory glitches after they wake up.

SWINDLE  
(with a clap)  
Perfect!

The dealer gestures to the femme to follow him as he scurries to the spider's nest where Brinn is.

SWINDLE  
Help me unwrap him…I have an idea.

She reluctantly peels herself off of Starscream and attends to the hurried untangling of her webs. Once Brinn is freed from the silk wrappings, they drag him over to Sevax. After building up the courage to touch the aliens, Swindle starts tying a few of their tentacles together. He looks up and points toward the stack of energon.

SWINDLE  
Grab me one full cube and few empty ones.

The femme agreeably follows his order and fetches some cubes. Starscream snickers lightly as it becomes clear to him what Swindle is planning. He slightly raises his head from the tabletop to watch the events play out.

STARSCREAM  
Brilliant…I regret that I didn't think of it myself.

Blackarachnia hands the cubes to Swindle as the dealer stands up from his crouch and drags the pair of aliens by their knotted tentacles to the door. He keys a code into the door and it hisses open.

SWINDLE  
(chuckling)  
Oh ho-ho, they're gonna feel so awkward. I wish I could I be there to watch them wake up.

STARSCREAM  
Wait…before you go give us the doorcode.

Swindle glances in both directions, surveying the hallway.

SWINDLE  
It changes every couple mega-cycles. I'll comm it to ya after the next changeover.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Are you coming back?

SWINDLE  
Not right away. An arena match is about to start and the bosssquid will find it odd if I'm not there to announce it. (he steps into the hallway, towing the aliens behind) Comm me if you need anything.

The door hisses shut behind him. Blackarachnia turns to see Starscream painstakingly lift himself from the table and attempt to stand. She grabs a full cube and brings it to him, setting it on the table and snapping her fingers as she points to his stool.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Sit. Drink. Get your strength back.

Starscream scowls with a little humility but obliges, wrapping his talons around the cube as he takes his seat.

She leans against the table looking over his wing restraints with worry.

BLACKARACHNIA  
We need to get those off of you.

STARSCREAM  
(finishing a sip)  
No. The Quints will know something's up.

BLACKARACHNIA  
The Quints are going to know something is up when those two jerks wake up. We might as well take away the physical advantage they have over you.

STARSCREAM  
If Swindle's plan works, they'll be too embarrassed to acknowledge anything went wrong (gestures to the door) and this entire ship is a physical disadvantage to me. Aside from this lab, they have defenses hiding in every nook and cranny, waiting to pounce at the slightest of hostile activity. (shaking his head in frustration) I swear the damn ceiling tentacles have a mind of their own.

Starscream offers her some energon but she declines with half-hearted wave. Her thoughts are obviously weighing heavy on her.

STARSCREAM  
(studying her expression)  
Stop that. Stop worrying...You need to contact the Autobots.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(meets his stern optics with helpless expression)  
What am I going to tell them?

Starscream shifts with a wince, unable to mask the discomfort of his wing restraints.

STARSCREAM  
I'm…not sure yet.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(lightly sarcastic)  
Oh…well great.

Her focus shifts to his burdened wings again, her spark sinking in pity. She steps around his wing and positions herself behind him, studying the restraints carefully. Starscream watches her from the corner of his optics.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What did you learn about the missile?

She lifts her hands to his back and begins gently kneading her fingers into the base of his wings. Starscream dims his optics and relaxes his shoulders, unable to deny the blissful relief of her touch.

STARSCREAM  
You (slips a light moan)…shouldn't do that. They may have recovered the surveillance feed of this room and…you're not exactly behaving like a prisoner.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(glances to the security cameras with disinterest)  
We can just say…(with a faint, dopey smile) I developed that whole infatuation for my kidnapper thing. (shifting gears before allowing a full blush) Now…fill me in on some details. What did you guys find out?

Starscream hangs his head quietly a moment, processing her behavior questionably.

STARSCREAM  
We…learned we can't disarm it from the ship…not unless we can get access to the bridge and hack into their systems.

She slides her fingers out to his wingtips, carefully avoiding putting pressure on the restraints.

BLACKARACHNIA  
That doesn't sound too bad. Swindle could take us to the bridge and we'll just overpower them. (puffing up a bit) I could probably take all three myself.

STARSCREAM  
(tensing slightly in irritation)  
But you can't take on their defenses. We wouldn't be able to take two steps onto that bridge without a bombardment of tentacles which, mind you, have the capability of ripping us limb from servo.

She presses his shoulder plates down, signaling him to relax. Her hands glide back down his back, her thumbs kneading into the groove between his wings.

STARSCREAM  
(relaxing again)  
Swindle suggested we…suggested I redirect the missile away from Cybertron.

BLACKARACHNIA  
How—

STARSCREAM  
(interrupting and talking quickly)  
By physically hauling it away after it is launched.

The massage stops.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What!? No, absolutely not!

STARSCREAM  
(defensively agreeable)  
That's what I said.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(anger bubbling up)  
If that's the only solution he can come up with then he'd better get a jetpack and do it himself.

She vents some hot air then resumes the massage, her touch stiffer and uneven as she chews over the new information.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Is that…really possible though? Flying it away from the planet?

STARSCREAM  
(lightly shrugging)  
I don't see why not…but we'd have to recruit some sorry, flight-capable sap willing to martyr himself.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(brow furrowing)  
Why martyr? Couldn't it just be redirected and released?

STARSCREAM  
(processes the suggestion a moment)  
Possibly…but it's risky. The direct physical contact could trigger it prematurely, which could be fatal not only for flier but for the entire planet as well.

The spider shakes her head disapprovingly, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(with a sigh)  
There's got to be another way.

Starscream glances over at the blue-tipped claws on his shoulder then takes her hand in his, studying it carefully.

STARSCREAM  
Perhaps the Autobots will think of something.

He tugs her hand so he can look it at in better light, which pulls her body flush to his back. If the seeker's attention weren't locked so analytically on the fruits of his labor, he might just notice her increase of ventilation. He brushes his thumb over each of her fingertips, his head tilting in curiosity. He lightly pinches her thumb a couple times.

STARSCREAM  
Does this hurt?

She shakes her head. Hurt is the last feeling his touch is drawing from her. She feels a rose-tint wash over her vision as she watches his sheered fingers skate across her new ones. Her spark flutters and her chassis warms in anticipation. Her unaltered hand twitches on his shoulder and she lets it drift to his collar. She relaxes her body with intent to lean against him in an embrace but he abruptly twists around, releasing her hand and looking her over with a quirked brow.

STARSCREAM  
(small smile spreading)  
So how about it?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(refreshing her optics from her dreamy daze)  
How…about what?

STARSCREAM  
(nodding his head to the converter)  
How about you make your call to the Autobots…as an Autobot.

She fully snaps out of her daze with surprise and disappointment. Squinting her optics, she glances back and forth between him and the converter.

BLACKARACHNIA  
But…(searching for any excuse) the Quints will know…

STARSCREAM  
Disguise yourself with a hologram.

BLACKARACHNIA  
But…

STARSCREAM  
(rising from the stool)  
No buts. You may not get another opportunity.

He attempts to walk by her but she shoves him back down to the stool. He's about to protest but holds back his words when he sees how desperately serious her fixed expression is on him.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Do you…want me cured?

STARSCREAM  
(matching her serious tone)  
You know how I feel about your organic form. I don't think it is a cure, but that's beside the point…it doesn't matter what I want. It's your body.

He tries to get up again but she keeps her hands pressed to chest, holding him down. She looks over his irritated expression with trepidation, her venting clearly visible by the rise and fall of her chest.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What I mean is…what form would you _prefer_ me in?

Starscream, oddly enough, is speechless. His gaze bounces everywhere except into her optics, which are intently locked on his. His first instinct is to play clueless in order to weasel out of the awkwardness but his respect for her prevents him from doing that. She is fully deserving of the truth from him and as far as he can remember, he has been nothing but truthful with her since she resurrected him. He's pleased that his extremely valid opinions concerning her organic form has sunken in, but he's disappointed that she would put the fate of her age-old obsession into his hands; and for what? An attraction? He shifts uncomfortably as her gaze bores into him. He can feel the anticipation bleeding from her hands into his chest.

STARSCREAM  
(still avoiding her optics)  
It sounds as though...you have finally…decided what you want.

She steps closer to him, sliding her hip against his knee and drifting her hands up to cradle the sides of his face.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(near whisper)  
I have.

Starscream's discomfiture should be speaking volumes to her but she obviously isn't getting it. She's probably refusing to get it, unwilling to accept another heart wrenching reality to mountain of madness that is her functioning. He can't tell her the truth, not now, not when he needs her to be his voice to the Autobots. The truth will crush her, enrage her; render her useless and most likely hostile.

Starscream finally lifts his head to stare back at her desperate gaze, relenting to do what is best for the situation. He observes the vast contrast between her helmet and the fleshy tissues of her lips then gently lifts her helmet off, causing her to flinch timidly.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Starscream don't—

STARSCREAM  
(speaking truthfully)  
You organic half is…(forces the word out) beautiful. I think you should keep it.

He sets her helmet on the table then runs his talons across the arachnid features on her cheeks, teasing a whimper from her. Her optics dim and she leans her cheek into his touch, her mouth parted wantonly. With a gentle tug to her waist, he pulls her into a kiss.

Her arms immediately wrap around his neck and she presses her mouth hard into him, her body going limp by the feel of his warmth. The feel of his talons exploring the curves of her back awaken sensors she'd forgotten were there. She breaks the kiss, but only to brush her thumb over his lips and look into his optics, verifying the moment is real and not a fleeting daydream. She pushes into another kiss, pressing her body flush against his cockpit, attempting to appease the swelled pressure of her spark fighting to be near his.

She feels good, he won't deny that. Her lips are soft and her fangs are…cute. He likes the way they scrape against his mouth but her dreamy sighs leave him uneasy. This is not the kind of treachery he's used to; not the kind he's remotely looking forward to facing the music on. Noble human influence or not, he isn't fit to be anyone's lover. What does she think he could do for her? How is it she's so intelligent in the scientific realm yet so foolish in her regard to him. He is not the one who should hold her spark, not by a long shot. She's much better off seeking the company of Optimus Prime.

She breaks the kiss again keeping her lips only a breath from his. Her hands trace along the sides of his helmet, taking in every curve and groove. She looks over his sharp features with a well of emotion, some of which is breaking through in the form of a tiny smile. Starscream's optics dim and he bows his head slightly, afraid of the truth his face could convey if he keeps allowing her a full view of it. His hands are resting on her hips and his thumbs twitch nervously over her waist. His processor races for the right words to break the moment but still keep her blissfully oblivious. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. He wishes she would say something instead of intimately fixating on him, but she can only speak with her touch. Her fingers explore his cheeks, his chin, his lips, her touch pouring with intense adoration, which only build on his awkwardness and shame. He finally illuminates his optics and lifts his head, rearing up to say…anything, but fate spared him the burden and the spider's comm buzzed the moment back into a workable reality for him.

SHOCKWAVE  
(via her comm)  
Blackarachnia, this is Shockwave. Is it safe for you to communicate?

The spider refreshes her optics in surprise; the intel bot's droning vocals chasing away her euphoria.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Um…yes, Shockwave. It's safe.

She drops her gaze from the seeker and drifts her hands down to rest on his legs.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Swindle is keeping the comm lines open under the radar of the Quints.

Starscream rises from the stool and slips out of her touch. He walks slowly to the converter and pretends to address some important task of reading gauges and adjusting settings.

SHOCKWAVE  
I am pleased to hear he can be depended on. Are you aware of Megatron's current situation?

Starscream freezes and looks over his shoulder at the spider. She returns his questioning look and takes a seat on the stool.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Didn't he…lock himself away in the basement?

She lifts her helmet from the table and replaces it upon her head.

SHOCKWAVE  
Not anymore. He has allied with the Autobots in hopes to unite our forces in a strike against the Quintessons.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(disbelieving)  
He…

Starscream chews over this information, his brow furrowing with doubt.

SHOCKWAVE  
He is now operating from the Elite Guard Intelligence division.

BLACKARACHNIA  
How did he escape the arena? I thought the Quints had you guys on lockdown?

SHOCKWAVE  
Strategic diversions, which I do not have time to explain at the moment. Where is Starscream? Have you been in contact with him?

Before she can answer she looks to Starscream, who abruptly shakes his head and signals her not to mention him. She responds with a silent but frustrated shrug of "why the scrap not?" but he holds fast to his decision, continuing to shake his head.

BLACKARACHNIA  
No, he's…in another part of the ship.

SHOCKWAVE  
Then I assume he hasn't harvested your organic components for conversion yet?

She continues to silently communicate her disapproval to the seeker.

BLACKARACHNIA  
That's right…I'm still in one piece.

SHOCKWAVE  
I am amazed you're willing to collaborate with Swindle after his role in your kidnapping.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(shrugging)  
We work with what we're given.

Starscream shoots her a silent comm message.

STARSCREAM_  
[Ask about this "strike"]_

BLACKARACHNIA  
What do you know about this alleged strike? Are the Autobots aware of the WMD?

SHOCKWAVE  
Yes. According to Megatron, they are fully aware of the volatility of the situation and are still in planning stages of the appropriate measures to take. All I know so far is that they have positioned their cyber ninjas in an undisclosed facility near Kaon.

STARSCREAM  
(rubbing his chin with scheming as whispers to himself)  
A stealthy approach…(nods in approval) I can work with that.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Which facility?

SHOCKWAVE  
I do not know. That is all the information I have. I suggest you contact Megatron or the Autobots and inform them on the details of the WMD…that is if you have any.

BLACKARACHINIA  
We have a little.

SHOCKWAVE  
We?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(tensing a bit)  
Sss--Swindle and I.

SHOCKWAVE  
Of course. Very well then, I shall leave you to your task. Do not, under any circumstances, make it known to the Quintessons or to Starscream that you are communicating to the outside. Shockwave out.

Starscream shakes his head and rolls his optics.

STARSCREAM  
As if you were going to. That fool has really let his SIC position go to his head.

The spider raises her brow to the seeker, but he ignores her acknowledgement of his hypocrisy and points at the cube on the table.

STARSCREAM  
Do you have the energy to fill that up with webbing?

Despite his emotionless tone, she smiles softly at him and looks him over with a tilt of her head.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Yes. I feel...good.

STARSCREAM  
Alright, but don't do it yet. Contact the Autobots, specifically Prowl. I want to know more about this stealth mission.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Okay.

STARSCREAM  
No, wait. I'll call Prowl. You get in touch with Optimus Prime. Tell him what we know about the missile.

Her smile fades as his voice remains cold and distant.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Sure. (she bows her head and taps her comm on, her voice soft) Whatever you say.


	30. Clash of the Ninjas

_A/N: As fun a fangirly kissy kissy scenes are, I felt it high time this story had a car chase. I mean, they are AUTObots after all. ^_~_

**ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS - MEDBAY**

Megatron lay flat on his back on a berth barely adequate to support his mass. His face is picture of frustrated impatience as Ratchet tends to the injury on his leg. The humbled gladiator's optics are locked disdainfully on an image of a serene Cybertronian landscape tacked to the ceiling above him. Red Alert stands a safe distance from the patient holding a tray of instruments barely within Ratchet's reach. There are several armed guards standing tall on either ends of the room, all doing their best to appear aloof.

The medic is the only Autobot in the room who isn't stiff with intimidation. This isn't the first time he's tended to a Decepticon's wounds. This may not be the average Decepticon soldier wounded on the battlefront, but Ratchet sees no need to make a fuss. What good would that do? Megatron's not misbehaving. Perhaps if the tyrant started unleashing bloody murder with his fusion cannon shouting 'all will perish in the name of Decepticons," then a fuss would be in order, but that wasn't going to happen. Not now anyway.

RATCHET  
You say the squid ship did this to ya?

MEGATRON  
That is correct.

RATCHET  
And that's how they're keeping the other 'cons prisoner? With this...(voice slides into skepticism) laser beam?

Megatron turns slowly to shift his disdain toward the medic.

MEGATRON  
Do not undermine their power. A Quintesson warship's weapons are eons ahead of Cybertronian technology.

RATCHET  
(brushing him off)  
Yeah, yeah, heard it all before.

The medic reaches to his arm's limit to swap out a surgical tool from the tray, giving Red Alert a dirty look for behaving so cowardly toward his patient.

RATCHET  
So their keeping all of Kaon hostage in the arena, yet the fights are still goin' on?

MEGATRON  
No, only my soldiers are prisoners. The populace of Kaon are a bunch of slovenly drunkards who care for nothing beyond their own pathetic overcharged existence. They couldn't pose a threat to a petrorabbit and are therefore of no concern to the Quintessons. They are free to move about the city at their leisure. The Quintessons do not track their whereabouts.

RATCHET  
(looking at Megatron in confusion)  
Then how in scrap did you escape? They mistake ya for a drunk?

MEGATRON  
I do not appreciate your attitude, Autobot.

RATCHET  
(crossing his arms)  
Oh really...Well, I'll have you know this attitude could sever your leg with one cut, so I suggest you--

Ratchet cuts himself off as an idea pings his processor.

MEGATRON  
(brow raised in annoyance)  
Suggest I what?

RATCHET  
You say they let the citizens of Kaon move about freely?

MEGATRON  
(irritation rising)  
Are your audios failing you? Yes, that is what I--

RATCHET  
Then what's to stop our ninjas from disguisin' themselves and waltzin' right on into the city?

MEGATRON  
Getting in and out of the city is not the hard part. It is getting aboard the ship without being detected AND bypassing all of their onboard defenses without provoking an itchy trigger tentacle to press the launch button.

Ratchet taps his chin and contorts his face as his processor grinds through some scheming.

MEGATRON  
(gaze shifts back to the ceiling poster)  
IF your ninjas could board the ship undetected and IF they could bypass the ship's onboard defenses, which I assure you is not a simple task, then they would have no problem overpowering the aliens themselves. They are weak and pitiful when stripped of their weapons and there are only three of them (fists clenching upon the berth) and one traitor.

RATCHET  
I think we may just be on to somethin' here. (taps his comm) Ratchet to Prime, come in.

**ELITE GUARD INTELLIGENCE HUB**

Optimus Prime stands center stage, looking over what remains of his team (Bumblebee and Bulkhead) who're sitting along the massive span of computer consoles, diligently tapping away at the keypads. Perceptor is seated a short distance down from Bumblebee, meticulously analyzing some reports. The room is littered with monitors of various sizes, some displaying maps of Cybertron, others filled with the images Elite Guard members who blink in and out as calls come and go. Chromia is stationed at her former desk, two guards standing erect on either side of her. Her monitor is filled with a live feed of the Medbay which she watches with doting optics.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(answering his comm)  
Go ahead Ratchet.

RATCHET  
I believe we have the makin's of a plan.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Who's we? You and Megatron?

RATCHET  
(talking quickly)  
Yes, me and Megatron, now listen up. We need to rally the ninjas together with our best strategists.

The prime's processor picks up its pace in attempt to piece together what his trusted medic is plotting.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(looking to Chromia)  
Who're our best strategists?

She points to Perceptor without taking her eyes off the monitor.

CHROMIA  
The ninjas are too.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(with an approving nod)  
That's...handy. (into comm) Most of them are already rallied at Blaster and Vibe's Night Club and Prowl's on his way there as we speak. (turns to Bumblebee) Bumblebee, patch Ratchet through onto the main feed, and get Jazz on the comm as well.

BUMBLEBEE  
(with a salute)  
Yessir bossbot.

Bumblebee fidgets questionably with some buttons but manages to successfully bring up the medibot's and Jazz's audio feed.

BULKHEAD  
(chiming in with a little regret)  
Um...Shouldn't we get Sentinel involved too?

Chromia peeks out from behind her monitor, shaking her head in protest.

CHROMIA  
No, absolutely not. He'll only hinder the discussion. Contact him after we lay down some solid plans.

Prime, Bulkhead and Bumblebee all look to her with suspicion.

PERCEPTOR  
(not bothering to look up from his data analyzing)  
Agent Chromia is correct. Let us hear what the medibot has to say then we will relay it to Sentinel Magnus and Alpha Trion.

JAZZ  
(via comm)  
What's the word boss? You got a gig for us or what?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Working on it. Go ahead Ratchet.

RATCHET  
(via comm)  
Jazz, are you and your team equipped with cloaking devices and energy signal dampeners?

JAZZ  
Yes doc, we are fully pimped with the latest mods.

RATCHET  
How about rocket boosters?

JAZZ  
That's...a no go. Only Prowl's sportin' those. Hey, was it just rumors buzzin' me or is that cat back and groovin' on our airwaves?

Chromia ducks discretely behind her monitor.

BUMBLEBEE  
(excited)  
He's back! Like, totally back! And he's on his way to you.

JAZZ  
(his voice projecting his unseen smile)  
Solid.

Megatron's voice can be heard murmuring through Ratchet's comm and the medibot mumbles back to him. The entire intelligence room hangs in silence trying to decipher their conversation. Chromia taps a few commands into her console and third audio feed is added to the mix.

CHROMIA  
(casually)  
Megatron's on comm.

RATCHET  
Sorry about that...alright, according to Megatron, the Quintessons have a transporter aboard their ship. They're able to "beam" bots up from the arena.

Bulkhead perks up as the area of his expertise is mentioned.

BULKHEAD  
(raising his massive arm apprehensively)  
Permission to speak bossbot.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Of course Bulkhead.

BULKHEAD  
Um...if they can "beam" then they can transwarp as well, which means we might be able to hack into their system from our transwarp network.

Bumblebee shoots his comrade a thumbs up and nod of approval.

MEGATRON  
If you, Autobot Bulkhead, are as gifted in transwarp technology as I remember, then you are capable of performing this "hack"?

Bulkhead's optics refresh in stupefied disbelief at unsuspected flattery and looks to Optimus for reassurance. The prime gives his prided spacebridge technician an encouraging nod.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(speaking softly with a smile)  
Go ahead, answer him.

BULKHEAD  
Uh...yeah, well...no, I mean...

Bumblebee facepalms.

BULKHEAD  
(continuing with a little more confidence)  
I could...if I could get the coordinates of their transporter and plug it into our system, then I could bypass their direct control of it and access it remotely...once I hack through their firewalls that is.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Who has access to those coordinates?

CHROMIA  
Swindle does.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(speaking to Bulkhead)  
And that's all you need to be able to transport the ninjas onto their ship?

BULKHEAD  
Yes...but there's hang up. The ninjas' mods won't function properly if exposed to transwarp energy, so they would be detectable by surveillance the instant they warp onto the ship.

MEGATRON  
Then we need to distract them from their monitoring.

CHROMIA  
(eagerly)  
I can do that. (she rises from her seat, her interest in the discussion finally piqued) I can call them on their main comm and use some delicately selected conversation to rile them up and get them arguing amongst themselves. Two of them are tirelessly at each other's throats and it takes very little provoking to set them off.

MEGATRON  
(bitterly sarcastic)  
Doesn't THAT sound familiar. (raising his voice) What about the third, the leader? I presume he isn't so easily played.

CHROMIA  
(shrinking slightly)  
Deliberata typically doesn't bother with surveillance duties, so we'll just have to hope he's true to form during my call.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(rubbing his chin in doubt)  
I won't risk the safety of our ninjas on a fleeting hope. We need a smooth plan. (lifts a stern look to the femme) Is there a more concrete way of guaranteeing they won't be detected?

CHROMIA  
(with a slight shrug)  
I'll talk to Swindle...see what he can do.

BUMBLEBEE  
(doubting)  
We're putting a lot of responsibility on the planet's most well-known double-crosser.

MEGATRON  
(more bitterness)  
Second most well-known.

BUMBLEBEE  
Whatever...I don't like it.

OPTIMUS PRIME

We work with what we're given, Bumblebee. (lifts his voice) Jazz, do you copy all this?

JAZZ  
Loud and clear, boss. You want I should kick the plans down to my crew, start preppin' em for the shindig of subtlety?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Yes, but make sure you stay put and out of harm's way until we have a solid plan. I can't have you going near Kaon and risking detection by the Quintessons.

JAZZ  
I dig...just need to wrap up some riff raff out here, then we'll await your word. Jazz out.

Bumblebee twists around looking to his leader with a dawning, worrisome thought.

BUMBLEBEE  
Riff raff? What's he talking about? Are the ninjas at the B&V?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
That's right.

BUMBLEBEE  
Isn't that where Sari is...with Lockdown?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Yes, Bumblebee...what're you sayi-- (his optics pop wide) Oh slag.

**HIGHWAY CONNECTING IACON TO KAON**

Prowl cruises down the highway, quickly but without urgency. Despite the chaos of recent events, he was strangely at peace and enjoying the nostalgic rush of his home planet's atmosphere as it skated along his chassis. He basks in the residual high still lingering from reuniting with his team and his master, not to mention the sheer unlikeliness of a cross-faction alliance.

There was still so much he didn't understand about how and why he was chosen to hold the trust of so many. He would like to retreat to a marathon of meditation to sort out the details of it all, but such luxuries are not feasible now. Sari is waiting for him and so is Lockdown, a bizarre but very real situation that requires his attention. Primus only knows how they fared in each other's company over the last few megacycles. A part of him wishes he could've watched their interactions. Sari would have undoubtedly vocalized her disapproval at each one of Lockdown's character flaws, and Lockdown --unexplainably compliant Lockdown-- would most likely retort with simple sarcasm and that aggravating grin.

Prowl nearly smiles at the imagery, but it's quickly stifled when he recalls Lockdown's past sin that took everything from his so long ago. He should be vengeful and grudging but can't erase Master Yoketron's recent words from his mind. Yoketron specifically mentioned Lockdown in their brief conversation, but he did so without grudge. Why would he do that? Why would he disregard such an intolerable act? Yoketron was...is not a defeatist. Prowl vaguely remembers, during their trip to Cybertron, calling Lockdown out on his guilt toward the crime, and Lockdown was unable to deny it, but guilt alone doesn't make up for what he did.

The ninja feels his circuits bristle but before he can feed his grudge for the stand-in ally he's moments from meeting up with, his comm buzzes, filling with the familiar vocals of his leader.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Prowl, listen up. There may be a situation at the night club.

Prowl's spark instantly fills with worry but he masks it with his typically controlled flatness of voice.

PROWL  
What kind of situation?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(with undeniable concern)  
Jazz and his team are there and I have no doubt they've found Lockdown with Sari. How close are you?

Prowl lunges into a bursting acceleration, his processor racing as fast his alt mode.

PROWL  
Not close enough!

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I don't think Jazz would let any harm come to Sari, but I don't anticipate the ninjas behaving too subtly when they find Lockdown. My biggest worry is that they'll cause a disturbance too close to Kaon and attract unwanted attention.

PROWL  
(straining to keep his voice neutral)  
I understand the severity of the situation but I can't promise I will get there in time to prevent an altercation.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Please do what you can. I'll-- (he cuts himself off as his comm buzzes from a third party)

PROWL  
Prime?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
It's Blackarachnia. I need to take this. Prime out.

Prowl continues at his maximum speed straining to make out the images on the horizon, hoping they're the neon signs pointing to his destination. The straight stretch of highway feels endless but he presses on. Through his worry, he questions what news Blackarachnia has to share. A part of him wishes she had contacted him, simply to keep him in the loop, but his logical side is pleased she didn't. The last thing he needs right now is another processor-fragging discussion with a Decepticon. He has more important things to deal with, like the set of red headlights that just popped up on the horizon which, much to his dismay, he's suddenly distracted from dealing with because his comm buzzes again.

STARSCREAM_  
[Autobot, I need you!]_

Prowl flinches at the shrill, demanding voice and his processor threatens to overload as the red headlights grow menacingly larger on the highway.

PROWL_  
[Now is not the time, Starscream. Can you call back later?]_

STARSCREAM_  
[EXCUSE ME?! What could possibly be more important than--]_

Prowl ends the call, having neither the time nor patience to deal with _that._

The spiked musclecar races by with a near windshield-shattering roar of his engines. Prowl skids into a one-eighty, back tire spinning frantically as he fights Newton's first law of motion.

LOCKDOWN_  
[Take your time why dontcha.]_

The bike regains its momentum and quickly closes the gap between him and the hunter.

PROWL_  
[Where are you going? And where is Sari?]_

Lockdown lets off just enough speed so the bike pulls up alongside him. He rolls his driver-side window down and from it emerges a disgruntled teenager dangling by her collar from a hook.

LOCKDOWN_  
[Take her.]_

He drops Sari into Prowl's side car then quickly pulls head, engines roaring as he accelerates to maximum speed, leaving the bike in his wake.

PROWL_  
[What's going on? What happened?]_

LOCKDOWN_  
[You failed to warn me of a little ninja reunion at my watering hole, THAT'S what happened.]_

PROWL_  
[Where are they now?]_

LOCKDOWN_  
[Check your rearview.]_

Prowl's frustrated by the drag created by his side car, but even if he didn't have it or Sari with him, he still wouldn't be able to match the buffed-up musclecar's speed.

Sari climbs out of the side car and drags herself onto Prowl's main seat, her hands gripping desperately to the handlebars as the wind whips against her little armored body.

PROWL  
Are you okay, Sari?

SARI  
I'm fine, but I can't say the same for Lockdown when (points her thumb to the growing sound of engines behind them) they catch up to him.

Gaining quickly on the bike is a white Porsche and an orange Cybertronian-model race car.

PROWL  
What happened back there?

SARI  
Well...let's see. The ninjas confronted Lockdown, asking why the murderer of their sensei was wearing an Autobot symbol, YOUR symbol, and Lockdown, not one to back down, pulled the symbol from his chest and stuck it on his aft...like, under the coattails aft...

PROWL  
(with a sigh)  
For spark's sake.

SARI  
(continuing)  
Warpath, I think that's his name...big red gun-chested bot, didn't take to kindly to this and starting beating on Lockdown, narrating each blow he landed. An then Blaster kicked us all out.

Before Prowl can vocalize more frustration, Jazz and Firestar zoom by on either side of him, causing the bike to swerve by the wind gusts.

JAZZ  
What up, hero? Glad to see you this side a'the universe.

PROWL  
The feeling is mutual my friend, but I insist you stop this pursuit.

FIRESTAR  
How did you rescue the girl so quickly?

PROWL  
She didn't need rescuing. Lockdown was looking after her.

SARI  
As if! I was looking after him.

PROWL  
Please, stop chasing him and I'll explain everything.

FIRESTAR  
Not a chance in pit we're letting that lowlife get away. What the spark's wrong with you? Don't you want to get some sweet revenge for what he did?

PROWL  
Revenge is not the way of the Cyber Ninja. I should not have to remind you of this, and besides, this is clearly not an appropriate time to dredge up grudges. We are all allies.

JAZZ  
No bro, not this one. Bots and cons are allies. Mister mismatch here doesn't meet either of those criteria. I'm surprised at you man, defending him and all. I thought you got your head straight again.

Prowl grows even more frustrated as the gap between him and the pair of racers keeps increasing.

PROWL  
It is straight! Can't you wait up?

JAZZ  
No can do. The hunter is now the prey and we ain't letting him escape.

PROWL  
He's on our side, Jazz. You must listen to me.

Sari leans over so Prowl can hear her voice over his engine buzz.

SARI  
You're not going fast enough.

Prowl responds with irritated groan.

SARI  
You need to lose the sidecar.

PROWL  
And how am I supposed to do that while in pursuit?

The girl twists around, studying the side of the bike where the sidecar attaches. After couple carefully placed kicks to the attachment mechanisms and a yelp of pain from the ninja, the side car goes trailing off, sparks flying from its contact with the highway.

PROWL  
(with offense)  
Sari! My rocket boosters were attached to that!

SARI  
(feeling pleased with herself)  
What was that saying? Oh yeah, it is the ninja BOT not the weapon. Now punch it!

Despite the knock of humility to Prowl's processor, he's unable to resist her delectable order and the streamline bike zips ahead, cutting through the atmosphere with ease and gaining quickly on the sports cars.

JAZZ  
Now that's more like it.

SARI  
What happened to Warpath?

FIRESTAR  
(laughing)  
He's a tank, love, not exactly the ideal racing model. My best guess is he's rumbling down the highway a good distance back, muttering string of curses that would send ya to the pit just for hearing 'em.

PROWL  
Jazz, open your door. I want you to take Sari.

Jazz complies, popping open his driver's door and unfolding his arm to reach out and pull her off the bike. Her protests are cut off as Jazz slams his door shut.

JAZZ  
Whatchu up to, man?

Up ahead, Lockdown watches keenly as the sports cars gain on him. As pretty as his alt-mode's aesthetic mods are, the hunter regrets his vanity for moments like these when their bulk inconveniently slows him down. He watches closely as the sleek black bike emerges from in between the cars then propels ahead, growing tauntingly close in his rearview. Before the musclecar has time to worry about Prowl's intentions, the bike launches into the air, transforms in a snap then tears the nearest billboard from the side of the road, each action executed with exquisite and practically unnecessary grace.

LOCKDOWN  
(to Prowl's comm)_  
[Showoff.]_

Prowl plants down onto the highway, creating a ramp with the billboard that causes Jazz and Firestar to unavoidably launch into the air.

SARI  
(to Prowl's comm)_  
[I'm so telling Optimus you ripped off his move.]_

The racers transform midair and spring elegantly into the off-road, cushioning their landing with strong, lean limbs, Firestar snapping a string of curses at Prowl. Jazz kept a firm, safe grip on Sari the entire time. He rises up from his crouched landing position, feeling not-so-cool as Prowl approaches him with a smooth gait, the ninja's stern expression almost intimidating. Jazz looks over his friend, holding tight to what remains of his patience.

JAZZ  
You better start explainin'.

Firestar rushes up to Prowl, her body language clearly displaying her aggravation at him.

FIRESTAR  
(shoving Prowl in the shoulder)  
The spark's wrong with you!? Now we'll never catch him!

Sari rockets out of Jazz's hold and gets in the femme's face.

SARI  
Back off, lady! He knows what he's doing!

The femme shoots a heated look to Jazz, hoping he'll get her back but he signals her to cool down. Prowl opens his mouth to begin the explanation but the group is distracted by the sound of tank tracks grinding along the highway as Warpath rolls onto the scene. The oddly lumbering ninja transforms and stomps up to his comrades, out of breath but trying to mask it by grumbling a variety of comic book action words.

WARPATH  
What in the pit is going on here!? A slaggin' reunion? Why don't I see a blasted bounty hunter tied up and ready for a (motions some violent moves) WHACK, CRACK!

FIRESTAR  
(still glaring at Prowl)  
Apparently, that modded miscreant doesn't have to be held accountable for his actions.

PROWL  
(standing his ground)  
I never said that.

Firestar gently pushes Sari aside and gets in Prowl's face, her heated optics blaring into his visor. Warpath approaches the black and gold ninja as well, swallowing him in his massive shadow.

FIRESTAR  
Actions speak louder than words, _fellow ninja bot_.

Jazz steps in, separating the confrontation with an easy push to the femme's and the tank's chest.

JAZZ  
Back down, cats. Let my man explain...I think we can trust his judgment.

Sari jets up and plants her backside down on Prowl's shoulder, her arms crossed and chin held high as she glares at the aggressive ninjas from behind her mask.

SARI  
I trust him too.

A gravelly voice emerges from a short distance down the highway.

LOCKDOWN  
(speaking too casually for his own good)  
Me as well...which puts the vote at four verses two in favor of NOT kickin' bounty hunter aft.

The group whiplashes to watch the undecided stroll up, his space poncho blowing in the wind. His posture is straight and proud but he can't hide a slight apprehension to his walk. Warpath and Firestar tense up, ready to equip their weapons, but Prowl gently grabs both of their arms, his visor beaming instensely.

PROWL  
I cannot allow you to attack him.

WARPATH  
(yanking his arm from Prowl's hold)  
Who said I needed your permission?

Warpath glares bitterly at Lockdown, his fist clenched tight, but Jazz steps in front of him, preventing him from advancing on the hunter.

JAZZ  
(calmly assuming his role of leader)  
I said, back down.

The elite ninja forces his hostile soldiers to shrink slightly with a dangerously calm glare from his optic visor. He can't deny the craving in his spark to rip the piecemeal traitor behind him limb from limb, but he knows that's not the approach Yoketron would take. He can oddly sense his master's presence and has a distinct feeling it's coming from the sleek black chassis standing in front of him. Jazz is not comfortable with whatever connection his beloved friend seems to have with the bounty hunter, but he refuses to let his jealously prevent Prowl from explaining himself. He shifts his glare to the optic visor glowing under the familiar samurai helmet and attempts to regain his characteristic cool.

JAZZ  
Enlighten us, Prowl. Why are we sparing this buzzkill of a bot?

Prowl steps forward, gripping Jazz's shoulder gratefully then shifting his gaze to Lockdown.

PROWL  
Because he cares for the fate of Cybertron as much as we do, as much as any bot does, regardless of the faction they do or don't swear allegiance to. He is a skilled fighter and a valuable asset to facing off against our shared threat.

The bounty hunter straightens his posture and fights to hide the emotion Prowl's words are pulling from his spark.

Prowl looks over each ninja as he speaks, surprising himself with the confidence backing each word.

PROWL  
(continuing)  
We must cast aside our grudges and remember all that Yoketron has taught us. It is not our place to judge him or to deal out retribution where we see fit. Master had a plan, from the time he chose to train this mech to day he went offline.

Firestar eyeballs Lockdown head to toe, unwilling to accept that her master could possibly see value in a traitorous criminal.

PROWL  
He knew what he was doing and we must respect that he saw something special in Lockdown just like he saw in each of us.

Warpath tilts his head to the side, his neck cables stretching with a crack that tells everyone he's not pleased with the situation.

PROWL  
I do not believe Lockdown's crimes should go unpunished (shifts his gaze to the hunter) but I do believe everyone is deserving of a second chance.

Lockdown returns Prowl's unreadable stare and the moment hangs in a long, tense collection of questioning thought. The scraping of Firestar's feet along the ground breaks the silence. She turns away, transforming and speeding off down the highway, back toward the night club. Warpath vents a long, rumbling sigh as he eyeballs the bounty hunter then follows the actions of the femme. Jazz looks over Lockdown with a mix of emotion, none of which he wants to express. His optic visor narrows as he turns to Prowl and shakes his head. He can't meet his friend's gaze but he leaves him with a firm, trusting squeeze to his shoulder.

JAZZ  
Hope you know what you're doing, Prowl.

The elite ninja transforms and joins the other two on the highway.

Prowl watches Jazz disappear on the horizon then apprehensively turns toward Lockdown. A sly smile spreads across the tattooed face.

LOCKDOWN  
Nice speech kid.

The hunter reaches under his coattails pulling a small red face from the void and approaches the ninja, nodding in light-hearted appreciation. He slaps the symbol onto the bike's chassis, causing Prowl to stagger back a step. Prowl looks down at the crooked red face, his visor narrowing in disgust at the thought of where his insignia had been.

LOCKDOWN  
I believe this suits you much better than it does me.

PROWL  
I beg to differ.

LOCKDOWN  
Beg all ya like, but it won't change anything. (nods in the direction of the highway) You made a good sales pitch to them…hell, you could teach Swindle a thing or two.

PROWL  
(meeting the hunter's optics)  
It wasn't a hard sell considering it's the truth.

Lockdown, holding fast to his smile winks at Sari then aims for the highway.

LOCKDOWN  
Nah, you're wrong there. I'm only in it for the bounty on the squids. (looks back over his shoulder) But…(choking on the word) thanks.

He transforms and pulls onto the road, stopping to rev his roaring engine in a tune of 'you coming or what?'

Prowl and Sari sigh helplessly in unison as they gaze upon the unlikely ally. The girl shakes her head then turns to Prowl, smiling under her mask as she wraps her arms around his neck.

PROWL  
(slightly taken off guard)  
What's this?

SARI  
I just...really missed you, Prowl...everything about you...even your lectures.

PROWL  
(lightly chuckling as he rests his hand on her back)  
I think you're the only who missed those. I doubt Bumblebee did.

SARI  
(giggling as she hugs tighter)  
Oh, he did...he just won't admit it.

Lockdown rudely blares his impressively melodic horn.

LOCKDOWN  
Let's get this wagon train moving kids. We got a planet that needs savin'.


	31. Showdown

_A/N: So here's the WTF update. A bigtime sequence breaker. As you can probably guess, the story is gearing up for the final, climactic action scenes and seeing how I'm not a fan of final climactic action scenes, I've decided to tackle them in a different way. Well, it's different than the TFA way but somewhat common in recent movies and TV. I'm going to use flashbacks to recount the final events instead of following a chronological sequence. I won't skimp on the action, suspense or drama, simply present it in alternate yet entertaining (I hope) way._

_Don't hate me for my creative liberties. ^_^ (however, feel free to hate Sentinel for STILL being jerk)_

**ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS – THE DAY AFTER AUTOBOT INDEPENDENCE DAY – MAGNUS OFFICE**

Sentinel Magnus paces behind his Magnus desk, rubbing his Magnus chin and nearly tripping over his Magnus chair, all under the scrutinizing stare of his loyal officer and top cyber ninja. Despite his lacerated chassis and cracked optic visor, Jazz sits straight-postured, arms folded proudly across his chest. He hasn't properly recharged since the battle aboard the Quintesson ship but that does not bother him. He couldn't recharge if he tried, not after yesterday's events. He can't help shudder at all the possible ways the attack could've gone wrong, all the lives that could've been lost. It takes all his cyber ninja training to suppress the negative and focus on the positive. Focus on the primus-sent acts of bravery each and every bot aboard that ship demonstrated. Focus on the brief but history-making stretch of time where there was no factional separation; only bots fighting together to save their planet. Jazz has no regrets to the outcome of the battle. His team fought to the best of their skill and beyond.

Sentinel never set foot on the Quintesson ship, yet here he stands, nitpicking his way through the details of a clearly a successful mission. The missile is destroyed, two of the three Quintessons are behind bars and the streets of Iacon are littered with the tell-tale signs of a roaring Independence Day celebration, but that isn't good enough for Sentinel Magnus. None of yesterday's heroic acts could be accredited to Sentinel, therefore he's taken it upon himself to comb over the mission for any potential flaws that can be thrown in the face of whoever he decides is responsible for them.

SENTINEL  
Explain to me how it is the only 'con we have in our custody is the one who never left it in the first place? (the pacing continues) How, despite the number of soldiers we had lingering around Kaon after the battle, not one Decepticon could be put in stasis cuffs and brought back for questioning?

Jazz is baffled, once again, by how severely blind his superior is to the big picture.

JAZZ  
(with a quiet but serious voice)  
That woulda been bad form, boss. (he shifts slightly in the chair, straining to keep his cool) Had you been there, you too woulda felt the vibe to just let 'em be.

The makeshift Magnus pauses his pacing, flinging a disapproving glance to the ninja.

SENTINEL  
Well I couldn't be there now could I Jazz!

Jazz looks away, irritated and uninterested in the mech's excuses.

SENTINEL  
(throwing his hands up)_  
Somebody_ had to stay behind to man the Intel room and _somebody_ had to keep an optic on Chromia to make sure she wouldn't hop sides AGAIN.

Jazz shakes his head slightly, dropping his gaze to the floor. It's a battle not to point how ridiculous his commander's reasoning is, but he learned long ago the futility of arguing with him.

JAZZ  
So you want the low down on what happened or not?

SENTINEL  
If it'll explain why (he uses his fingers to brashly count each point as he speaks them) the head Quintesson escaped, why their ship is nowhere to be found and why no one has come forward claiming responsibility for detonating that missile, then yes, I would like the 'low down.'

Jazz scoots forward, leaning into his legs and keeping his focus down. Displaying his rise of aggravation wasn't going to make his testimony any easier.

JAZZ  
All I can account for is what happened on the ship. You'll have to talk to OP about the missile. (he pauses a moment, letting a long stream of air pass in and out of his intakes before speaking again) The scene was crazy…a collage of chaos. Alarms blarin', tentacles flyin' everywhere. We expected a showdown, but not like that.

**FLASHBACK – QUINTESSON SHIP –TRANSPORT ROOM**

CHROMIA  
(via Jazz's comm)_  
[Are you in?]_

JAZZ_  
[Affirmative.]_

_CHROMIA  
[Are you cloaked?]_

The ninja team moves silently out of the room and into the hallway. They activate their hologram mods and disappear into the surroundings, then switch on their infrared which enables them to see each other.

JAZZ_  
[We are now.]_

The elite ninja signals Warpath and Firestar to secure one end of the hall and Prowl and Lockdown to the other. That leaves Sari standing at his feet, awaiting her order.

CHROMIA_  
[Did Swindle upload the ship's map to you?]_

JAZZ_  
[Yeah, we got it.]_

CHROMIA_  
[Okay, as you can see, the bridge has two entrances. Your best bet is to split up and ambush them from both sides. I'll keep you posted to their actions, let you know when all three are a safe distance from the missile control console.]_

_OPTIMUS PRIME  
(intervening via comm)  
[Jazz, it is of utmost importance you wait for our signal before attacking. We cannot risk them launching that missile. I'd rather abort the mission then put the outcome of your attack to the fate of chance.]_

JAZZ_  
[I hear you, boss. I ain't makin' a move 'till I get the green light.]_

OPTIMUS PRIME_  
[Is Sari with you?]_

JAZZ_  
[Word. She's right here, buffin' my Ch'i with her bravery.]_

OPTIMUS PRIME_  
[Ok good, but bravery and battle prowess aside, she is still vulnerable. Make sure she is with either you or Prowl at all times.]_

JAZZ_  
[No worries Prime, we'll keep her safe.]_

Jazz signals Sari to join Prowl and Lockdown then heads toward the other ninjas, turning back only to flash Prowl's team the peace sign.

**ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS – MAGNUS OFFICE – PRESENT TIME**

SENTINEL  
(slamming his fists on the desk)  
The attack, Jazz! Tell me about the fraggin' attack! I was in the Intel room during this conversation. I don't need it recapped.

Jazz scowls at his superior, trembling with a frustration that threatens to break his characteristic cool. The Magnus leans into his desk, boring into the ninja with an interrogative glare.

SENTINEL  
At what point did the squids discover your presence?

Jazz flinches in disgust at the mech's terminology. Enemies or not, a Magnus should know better than refer to an alien species with derogatory slang.

JAZZ  
(with a shake of his head and a shrug)  
I don' know, sir! Once we split up, I had no clue what happened on Prowl's end, other than they captured one of the Quints, which you already knew about. That to me sounds like reason enough to trigger the alarms. (vents some heated air then takes a moment to cool back down) What is it you wanna hear, Sentinel?

SENTINEL  
I wanna know who's responsible for blowing your cover! Was it that bounty hunter? Or the organic? Perhaps it was your glitched-processored pal and you're trying to cover up for him.

Jazz rises to his feet in a snap and points a threatening finger at the Magnus. His mouth quivers as he battles a defensive outburst that could very well earn him a military discharge. Sentinel straightens his stance and crosses his arms –his most superior of stances.

SENTINEL  
Something you wanna tell me, soldier?

Jazz withdraws his aggressive body language, venting some more hot air and dropping his balled fists to his sides.

JAZZ  
My crew operated exactly as they should've. The gig was dicey and we knew that from the start. (he eases back down in his chair) We anticipated that defining moment of pushing forward or withdrawing and we chose to push.

**FLASHBACK – QUINTESSON SHIP – CORRIDOR TO BRIDGE**

Jazz, Warpath and Firestar stand pressed against the wall on either sides of the bridge room door, each of them struggling to keep a manageable level of control. Their internal systems race with a heating mix of fear, anticipation and impatience.

JAZZ_  
[Chromia, I repeat, what's the status? Is Prowl's team in place?]_

No response.

FIRESTAR  
(to Jazz and Warpath)_  
[This is taking too long. Something must've happened to them.]_

Jazz shakes off the negative images threatening to infect his processor.

JAZZ_  
[Prowl, come in. What's happenin' on your end?]_

The three wait in silence during the excruciating long moment before Prowl replies.

PROWL_  
[Go in. Do it now, before it's too late!]_

JAZZ_  
[What! What do mean, bro? Gimme some details.]_

_No response._

JAZZ  
Frag!

The other two ninjas' optics widen at their leader's vocal outburst. They look to him for answers, their sparks welling at the uncertainly showing through his visor.

JAZZ  
(after a couple courage-building air intakes)  
You heard him…Let's move.

Jazz equips his nunchucks, Firestar her twin sais and Warpath charges up his chest cannon. On Jazz's lead, the three burst through the door and lunge into the bridge, immediately assuming a battle stance as they survey the room. Before they can establish the vulnerability of the two Quintessons in the room, they're bombarded by waves of tentacles streaming from the walls and ceilings. They reactively fend off the alien weaponry, jumping, slicing and kicking, their entire focus dedicated to keeping their limbs free of entrapment. Warpath equips his katanas, a much more appropriate weapon than his slow, energy-sapping firepower.

The alien assault continues without falter. The three haven't been able to move from their initial infiltration spot. Despite how many tentacles they cut through, the binding threat keeps coming. In between attacks, Jazz strains to catch a glimpse of the bridge and barely makes out through the chaos Deliberata and Brinn, hiding behind a protective transparent shield. The shield lowered around the center platform the instant the defensive tentacles were deployed. Jazz's circuits prickle when he sees the pompous grins on the aliens' matching Death faces.

The other bridge door slides open to reveal the missing ninja team. Prowl's supporting Swindle's injured chassis and Lockdown stands tall his chainsaw equipped on one hand, a captive Quintesson dangling off his hook by its tentacles. Sevax egg-shaped body lies limp on the floor but the alien is still conscious. The other two Quintessons are unaware of recent arrivals but the ship's defenses quickly pick up on the intruder's energy readings. Within seconds, the tentacles come streaming toward them. Lockdown attacks with his roaring chainsaw and Sari with her energy blasts. They shield Prowl and Swindle.

LOCKDOWN  
(shouting to Prowl over the mayhem)  
We got this! Go do what ya need to do.

Prowl looks at Sari with concern, searching for the reassurance that'll she be okay. She blasts a couple more tentacles, impressing the ninja with her quick reflexes then gives him a confident nod. Prowl wraps Swindle's arm over his shoulder and the two leave the room, the door hissing shut behind them. The Quintessons finally take notice of the new arrivals, their smiles fading quickly once they see their third being held captive.

DELIBERATA  
(still wearing the Death face)  
Fools! You don't stand a chance against our defenses. Release Sevax at once or I will start the launch sequence.

Lockdown rips through a few pesky tentacles, buying himself a free moment. He lifts Sevax into view, pulling a pained and humiliated groan from the alien.

LOCKDOWN  
(typically indifferent)  
That his name? Huh, I was just calling 'em Squid.

Deliberata switches to his Rage face, his fangs bared and optics slitted.

DELIBERATA  
Why you pathetic excuse for a warrior. Release him at once!

Lockdown grins wickedly then starts swinging Sevax over his head like a ball and chain, knocking away the few tentacles that his chainsaw missed. His optics glow a wild red, his gap tooth smile obnoxiously wide.

LOCKDOWN  
M'afraid I can't do that. We've grown kinda attached to each other.

Sevax hollers, painfully and pathetically as he's swung mercilessly into his own prided defenses.

LOCKDOWN  
How 'bout you surrender yer ship and I'll spare this whelp from my trophy shelf.

SEVAX  
(screaming to Deliberata)  
Help me, please! Do what he says, I beg of you. Just please save me from him!

The Quintesson commander fills with contempt at the hunter's brash disrespect. He takes a long, cold look at Sevax, noting the alien's dented features and scuffed body as he's hurdled through the air and lacerated by the tentacles meant to protect him. Deliberata wasn't a compassionate being. The assault on his subordinate didn't invoke sympathy but rather stung his pride. If Sevax survived this assault, he'd have to face a severe wrath for behaving with such cowardice. Quintessons are a proud race and should always behave in that manner, no matter the situation. Despite the exile from their home planet, Deliberata was proud of their accomplishments and their technology. How dare these pathetic Cybertronians mistake his greatness as some weak, ill-prepared, fly-by-night antagonist. He switches back to his Death face and turns to Brinn, giving him a simple nod.

DELIBERTA  
Launch it.

Brinn nods in return then immediately accesses the control panel on the armrest of the captain's chair. Jazz didn't miss a beat of this. He strikes a couple more tentacles with his nunchucks then takes a few steps forward, his focus locked on Brinn's actions. He freezes when he sees the main screen fill with the image of an active counter.

JAZZ  
(gasping)  
No!

**ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS – MAGNUS OFFICE – PRESENT TIME**

Sentinel is now seated in his chair, leaning into his desk, hands clasped. He looks at Jazz almost sympathetically, but his compassion is quickly stifled by an ignorant realization.

SENTINEL  
So…it's the bounty hunter's fault?! (thumps his fist on the desk) He's responsible for the missile launch.

Jazz shakes his head, his patience only running on limited reserves.

JAZZ  
No, boss…that's not—

SENTINEL  
(pointing an accusatory finger)  
You allowed his deranged aft onto your team which means, technically YOU are responsible for the launch.

That's the last straw. Jazz jerks out of his chair, hard enough to knock it over. He takes a couple steps toward the Magnus then turns and walks back to the chair, pacing a couple times in a temperament that Sentinel has never seen in him before. Jazz picks the chair up in one hand and violently tosses it into the wall, his growls drown out by the crashing sound of metal striking metal.

SENTINEL  
(rising from his seat and suppressing some intimidation)  
Get yourself under control, soldier! Don't make me call security!

Jazz whips around to meet Sentinel's fearful optics with his blazing glare.

JAZZ  
What in the spark is your damage!?

SENTINEL  
Excuse me?!

Jazz advances on the desk, flipping up his optic visor and piercing his superior with a naked stare that could raze all of Iacon.

JAZZ  
We won, commander! And all Autobots are safe and accounted for. There is no reason for you to conduct this interrogation other than one, chart-topping and pathetically obvious reason.

SENTINEL  
(struggling to stand his ground as he responds condescendingly)  
And what reason would that be, Jazz?

JAZZ  
(not budging)  
You feel threatened. You're bent outta shape because, once again, you have no claim to heroics.

Sentinel's stare darkens, his mouth pinching in insult. He steps around the desk and gets directly in Jazz's face. The ninja still doesn't budge and keeps his glare fixed on the Magnus.

SENTINEL  
You must not value this (taps Jazz's Elite Guard insignia) anymore. Sounds to me like you want me to relieve you of it.

JAZZ  
(his voice quiet but confident)  
Admit it, sir.

SENTINEL  
Admit what?

JAZZ  
You're not fit to be Magnus.

SENTINEL  
(his optics brighten and he practically growls his response)  
Then who is? Optimus?

Jazz doesn't respond but keeps his gazed fixed.

SENTINEL  
(with a sneering smirk)  
Go ahead…say it. I know you want to. I DARE you to.

Jazz vents deeply a few times, forcing his chassis to cool. He flips his optic visor back down then turns and heads for the door.

Sentinel pompously crosses his arms, mistaking Jazz's behavior as a sign of defeat. Before the elite ninja leaves the room, he turns to gaze to the Magnus once more.

JAZZ  
(his voice cool but still confident)  
You know how I feel about Optimus. But after yesterday's events and the acts of bravery I witnessed…I'd sooner elect Megatron to fill your role then go through another catastrophe under your watch.

With a slamming of the door, Jazz is gone, leaving the Magnus to stand, quivering with insult, mouth gaping as he wallows in his mix of anger, frustration, a touch of humility and maybe, just maybe…a hint of regret.


	32. Showdown Part Two

**OFFICE OF THE MAGNUS – ONE MEGACYCLE AFTER THE MEETING WITH JAZZ**

Sentinel's next victim of interrogation was originally going to be Chromia, but after the agitated state Jazz left him in, he decides an encounter that _doesn't_ provoke his temper would be the best option. He'll deal with the treacherous femme later; let her sit in the prisoner chamber a while and hopefully mull over her sins. The thought of this brings him slight joy, but overall the Magnus is flustered. Despite Alpha Trion's suggestion to postpone the investigation, Sentinel chooses to continue it. He is dead set on figuring out what exactly happened aboard that ship, whose actions are responsible for the launch and most importantly, what he can expect from the collection of Decepticons still lingering in Kaon. Oh ya, and there's that whole business of determining who the heroes are.

The next bot he has lined up to meet with is not one he's looking forward to speaking to one-on-one. This meeting will require him to select his words…carefully. Primus knows this bot could lose it worse than Jazz did. The Magnus realizes he may have made a mistake when denying this bot a place in the Hall of Heroes, but then again, this bot could be responsible for the missile's launch. If that's the case, it could severely hinder his chances for reconsideration. This meeting is going to require a lot of tiptoeing, if anything, for the sake of Magnus's expensive office furniture. Sentinel isn't worried about his own safety. If push comes to shove, he could handle a skinny little ninja, but he'd rather it didn't come to that extreme.

The door to the Magnus's office creaks open, pulling Sentinel from his flood of thought and forcing him into his most easygoing of commanding roles. He watches analytically as the black and gold samurai glides in classically stoic. Prowl takes a seat at the single chair set in front of Sentinel's desk, his posture straight and proud, despite his obvious level of exhaustion.

SENTINEL  
(stumbling toward sincerity)  
I thank you for coming at such short notice. I'll try to make this as brief as possible so you can recharge and what not. (he rises from his seat and starts his typical pacing ritual) You understand why I called you here, correct?

PROWL  
(calm and compliant)  
I do.

SENTINEL  
Good…Then you feel comfortable recapping the events aboard the ship?

PROWL  
(his visor narrows)  
Of course. Why wouldn't I be comfortable?

SENTINEL  
Well…

Sentinel fidgets awkwardly. This is one of those moments where he's required to call upon his limited resources of compassion. He hates these moments but he reasons this…soldier deserves his sympathy, what with everything he's been through.

SENTINEL  
You know…because of your…_thing_.

Prowl raises an optic ridge, refusing to appease this transparent buffoon with the slightest glint of emotion.

PROWL  
You needn't worry about my condition. I was capable of carrying out our mission to the best of my ability and I am capable now of reporting the events to you.

The Magnus accepts this with an approving nod.

SENTINEL  
Very well…Let's see now. (he fumbles through some tablets on his desk, looking over his notes). Jazz mentioned he saw you with Swindle? And that the two of you left the bridge during the attack on the Quints?

PROWL  
That is correct.

SENTINEL  
Tell me, then…when did you first meet up with Swindle? And did you find Blackarachnia? What happened to her?...(Prowl opens his mouth to answer but Sentinel cuts him off) And what about Starscream? Did he get his comeuppance!?

This causes a hitch in Prowl's thoughts. He knows the subject of Starscream and his heroics must be addressed, but he's not sure how to approach it. He cycles over the Magnus's heap of questions, deciding the best approach is to simply answer them one at a time as they were given and bring up Starscream when the moment feels right for it.

PROWL  
We encountered Swindle on our way to the bridge, after we split off from Jazz's team.  
**  
FLASHBACK – QUINTESSON SHIP –CORRIDOR LEADING TO THE LABORATORY**

Prowl, Lockdown and Sari, all hidden by their cloaking devices, move slowly down the hallway. Prowl leads them, using the ship's map Jazz sent through his commlink to navigate their passage. Sari is close to his heels, her spark racing with fear and excitement but she strives to keep a cool, ninja-like demeanor. Lockdown follows behind, his pace slower as he checks out every detail of the ship's architecture and takes special note of the panels in the ceiling that no doubt hide the obnoxious tentacle defenses he's heard about.

Sari's suddenly distracted by a change in Prowl's appearance. His infrared image in her visor flickers, blinking in with his normal colors.

SARI  
Prowl! (she whispers) Your cloaking device is glitching!

Prowl holds his hands out and watches with frustration as they flicker.

PROWL  
Ugghhh…it's this faulty, standard issue, EG piece of scrap mod.

Sari's taken back by his language.

PROWL  
I could really use my _own_ hologram mod right about now.

Lockdown approaches them, scowling at Prowl's dilemma.

LOCKDOWN  
Damned cheap mods. Yer signal is masked, right?

PROWL  
Yes, but that won't matter if they have video survell—

CHROMIA  
(bursting onto Prowl's group comm)  
_[Prowl! Heads up! Sevax just left the bridge and he's headed your way. He's armed and moving quickly. Something has clearly upset him.]_

PROWL  
_[Can you divert him away from us?]_

CHROMIA  
_[No. They won't answer my call. I think they're onto me. Both you and Jazz need to move your teams onto the bridge NOW. Jump them before they activate the ship's defenses.]_

Prowl is not pleased with the disorganized urgency. He grows more frustrated as his hologram continues to glitch and struggles to keep his air of control. He turns to Lockdown, unable to mask the uneasiness showing through each flicker of his visor. Lockdown narrows his optics and slightly shakes his head.

LOCKDOWN  
Don't buckle on us now, kid. She said move, so we move.

Prowl stares at Lockdown for an indecisive moment then finally accepts his reassurance. He looks to Sari, expecting her beaming confidence to restore some courage in his spark, which it does without fail. He snaps his focus back to the map displayed on his HUD and signals his team to follow.

They only move a short distance down the hall when a loud blast and a painful holler shatter the silence. They advance with urgency around the next corner and freeze at the sight of Swindle collapsed on the floor with a Quintesson standing over him, a menacing blaster held in his tentacles.

SEVAX  
You filthy traitor! How dare you--

The alien is distracted by the flicker from Prowl's hologram.

SEVAX  
What's this?

Lockdown shoves past his teammates, his cloaked chassis radiating his anger at Sevax's assault. He advances on the alien, who doesn't realize the danger he's in until a bulky, spiked foot breaks through its hologram and pummels him into the adjacent wall.

Sari and Prowl race to Swindle's side, rolling him over to inspect the damage. He's unconscious, his chest blackened and stained with energon around the hole blasted in it. His spark chamber is cracked but intact, the blue glow peeking through the split in its casing.

SARI  
Is he okay?

PROWL  
He'll be fine…as long as he doesn't take another blast. (glances down the hall at Lockdown and Sevax) But I don't foresee that happening, at least not from _that_ Quintesson.

Lockdown now has Sevax by the tentacles and he swings him around, alternating between the walls he smacks him into and making sure that multiple faces receive a proper rearranging. He doesn't bother using a single mod in his assault, knowing well his brute force is more than enough to deal with this enemy. He pins him against the lab door and leans in to him with a menacing glare. His intent is to show the alien just how pissed he is about the attack on a fellow Cybertronian, regardless of that Cybertronian's quality of character. Even Swindle didn't deserve to be taken down by a cowardly squid that hides behind big shiny weapons.

LOCKDOWN  
Don't even entertain the thought of contacting your buddies.

Sevax shudders pathetically, unable to mask with his Death face --the most intimidating of faces-- the fear he's feeling.

SEVAX  
(spitting fluids as he speaks)  
You're too late! They know you're here, I've already alerted them. You don't stand a chan—

Lockdown releases him, letting him fall to the floor but keeping his grip on the tentacles. He looks worriedly to Prowl who now has Swindle draped over his shoulder and is coming toward him. The ninja caught every word of the alien's threat.

PROWL  
I don't like the sound of that.

JAZZ  
(via Prowl's comm)  
_[Prowl, come in. What's happenin' on your end?]_

LOCKDOWN  
(to Prowl)  
If this squid's tellin' the truth, we gotta make our move, pronto.

Prowl nods in agreement, shifting as he continues to support Swindle's unconscious weight.

PROWL  
(to Jazz)  
_[Go in. Do it now before it's too late.]_

The injured dealer comes to upon hearing Prowl's voice. He groans in pain and lifts his head off the ninja's shoulder. Lockdown relaxes slightly upon seeing this.

LOCKDOWN  
Swindle! Th'spark happened? Why'd he shoot you?

SWINDLE  
(voice weakened)  
No time to explain…we gotta stop that missile.

PROWL  
The missile!? Have they launched it?

SWINDLE  
Not yet, but it's only a matter of time.

Prowl tightens his hold on the dealer then pushes forward, signaling his team to follow.

PROWL  
Come on! We need to stick to the plan and get to the bridge. Perhaps we can still prevent the launch.

**ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS – OFFICE OF THE MAGNUS – PRESENT TIME**

SENTINEL  
(perched attentively in his chair)  
Well, what happened? How was Swindle's cover blown?

PROWL  
(shaking his head)  
I am…uncertain. We separated before he could tell me what happened.

SENTINEL  
But Jazz said the two of you left the bridge together. Where did you go? Why didn't you stay and help your team? You realize Lockdown provoked the head squid into launching that missile.

The ninja's face pinches in insult. He looks at his superior with doubt, shaking his head in disagreement.

PROWL  
No, that's not true. Is that what Jazz told you?

SENTINEL  
(leaning back with an unjustified assurance)  
Not exactly in those words, but he made it clear enough.

PROWL  
I don't believe that. The launch would have happened regardless of Lockdown's predictably disagreeable behavior. That is why Swindle and I left the bridge. He knew the launch was inevitable. He insisted we go back for Sta—(he cuts himself off, unsure if this is the appropriate time to bring up the controversial subject).

SENTINEL  
Go back for who? Starscream!?...Why, to take him down?

Prowl takes a moment before responding, deciding there's no purpose in keeping Starscream's involvement a secret, especially considering how important the seeker's role had been in securing their victory.

PROWL  
No…Starscream was on our side….He had been all along.

SENTINEL  
(predictably disbelieving)  
Say what!?...(he relaxes his posture, looking the ninja over in pity then shaking his head) You're glitching again.

PROWL  
(snapping defensively)  
No I am not! Swindle and I had been communicating with Starscream all along, even before you were aware of the Quintesson threat. If it wasn't for him, we…(he rises up, gesturing toward the window) all of this would be gone.

Sentinel's still not convinced but he suppresses his instinct to chastise this mixed-up bot, drawing upon the little sympathy he has for his condition. He remains seated but lifts his glance to meet Prowl's.

SENTINEL  
You're dismissed, soldier…(his voice softens as he sighs in disappointment) I suggest you get yourself a solid night's recharge.

Prowl stands, bristling in offense. What was he supposed to do, lie? He wasn't about to lower himself to a charade just to appease this sorry excuse of a commander.

PROWL  
Why did you call me in here if you believed I wasn't fit to give a proper testimony?

Sentinel fumbles with various supplies on his desk, oblivious to how much he just insulted the ninja.

SENTINEL  
I, along with everyone else, seemed to think you were…you know…better. But don't worry, I'll have Chromia or Optimus Prime supply the details which you cannot.

Prowl crosses his arms and vents a long stream of hot air.

SENTINEL  
(his tone is inappropriately casual)  
Don't take it the wrong way, Prowl. Your bravery yesterday and…(struggling to make optic contact) your actions back on Earth, during the Omega clone siege…all of it has been…duly noted.

The ninja turns away, fighting to keep his rarely-surfaced temper intact and aims for the door.

SENTINEL  
(confused by Prowl's actions)  
What's your issue, soldier? Don't you want recognition for your acts of bravery? You're in a very unique position, you know. No Autobot in all of our history has ever been considered for the Hall of Heroes, while he was alive.

Prowl stops at the door, his wing panels straightening stiffly. He doesn't bother to even look in Sentinel's direction and battles a cauldron of verbal retaliation bubbling in his processor. It takes all his self-control to leave the mech with just this single but vivid thought.

PROWL  
I am sorry…

SENTINEL  
(taken back)  
Sorry? What for? The Chromia thing? (waves it off pretending not to care) She's a traitor…why should I care that you—

Prowl rolls his optics underneath his visor and speaks up before the Magnus can unknowingly dig himself into a deeper hole.

PROWL  
I am sorry that you are so remarkably clueless as to how the real world operates.

The ninja slips quietly into the hallway, leaving the Magnus to gape in stupor. Sentinel throws his arms out in a wide shrug.

SENTINEL  
What?! What did I do wrong? I was nice this time.

He's baffled how the business of electing heroes has become so complicated. What did Yoketron teach these guys? Put your servos on the line then throw a fit when it came time to be rewarded for your actions? Silly. Sentinel's grateful he never bothered with ninja training. He brushes it all off with a shake of his head then strains to focus on the next line up of business.

SENTINEL  
(speaking into his comm)  
Magnus here. Bring Chromia in.

He ends the call, not even waiting for a response. Oddly enough, he's not dreading this interview as much as he was before. It'll be a nice change not to have some spawn of Yoketron spouting off their Processor over Logic nonsense at him.

**HALLWAY LEADING TO THE OFFICE OF THE MAGNUS**

Rounding the corner in front of Prowl is a pair of guards, escorting Chromia who's wearing a pair of uncharged stasis cuffs. Everyone halts before bumping into each other, Prowl and Chromia exchanging surprised and curious looks.

CHROMIA  
Are you coming from Sentinel's office?

PROWL  
Yes.

She eyeballs him head to foot.

CHROMIA  
That explains why you're so tense.

PROWL  
(dismissive of her observation)  
Is that where you are headed?

CHROMIA  
Yes…(she cringes) my turn.

PROWL  
He'll probably ask you about Swindle and Starscream.

He steps closer to her, gripping her upper arms.

PROWL  
You must tell him the truth.

The guards exchange questioning glances.

CHROMIA  
Starscream? No one knows what happened to him.

PROWL  
I realize that but Sentinel doesn't believe he was ever on our side.

CHROMIA  
Of course he doesn't! You insisted I be all secretive about it. (her wings flitter restlessly in their clamps) And come to think of it, I'm not even convinced Starscream was on our side. Megatron didn't seem to think so either.

Prowl raises an optic ridge as he releases her.

CHROMIA  
Okay, bad example, but do you understand my point?

PROWL  
Your point is moot. The truth is, Starscream was on our side and our Magnus needs to be convinced of this…for Starscream's sake.

CHROMIA  
(speaking snootily)  
You mean your Magnus…and why does it matter what he thinks about that weaselly--

PROWL  
(interrupting with a raise of his voice)  
Because, Chromia, it is the truth. I know that's an alien term to you but some of us value its importance.

CHROMIA  
(quick to defend herself)  
Starscream's reality means nothing to Sentinel. If I try to convince him of something _I'm_ not even sure about, he'll see right through it.

One of the guards tugs Chromia's arm, urging her to wrap up the conversation.

CHROMIA  
(softening her tone)  
I'm sorry Prowl, I can't help you with this. Get a hold of Blackarachnia or Swindle…see if they'll talk to Sentinel.

PROWL  
(shaking his head)  
They would never agree to that.

The guards lead Chromia away but she keeps her optics locked on Prowl, her voice echoing down the hall.

CHROMIA  
If you truly believe Starscream is the unsung hero then it's _your_ responsibility to convince the rest of us.

Prowl turns away, unsatisfied with her reasoning. He drifts down the hall, his processor racing much higher than it should be given his level of exhaustion but he refuses to rest until this matter is settled. If one of Cybertron's most well-known antagonists could be proven a hero, it would spurn monumental growth to the seeds of peace Optimus Prime planted yesterday. He can't give up, for the sake of Cybertron's future. The truth must be unveiled.

PROWL  
(opening up a comm call)  
Blackarachnia, this is Prowl…Are you there?


	33. Motives

_A/N: The end is near. I predict about 3 more chapters._

_Still more obnoxious Sentinel, but only in the first scene and he gets knocked down a notch (or five).  
_

_Much love to Optimus Bob and Antepathy for the beta reads and big big hugs to my readers and reviewers._

_

* * *

_

**ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS - OFFICE OF THE MAGNUS**

Chromia sits in the hot seat, legs-crossed, hands cuffed and wings clamped. She has certainly seen better days but isn't about to convey her disdain at the situation to the pompous bot returning her glare.

Sentinel hadn't said anything when the guards brought her in, simply looked her over with a variety of reactions from amusement to disgust. He'd then excused the guards after she sat down, but still didn't say anything after they left. He'd taken his seat, leaning back in his chair, strumming his fingers on the desk.

This has gone on for a good, annoyingly long minute.

Who is this joker kidding? He's trying to play the processor-fragging interrogator role and failing miserably at it. It's not like she has anymore top secret information to give him. She wishes she did because that means she would have most likely talked to Megatron, but no. She's as much in the dark to the Decepticon's current status as Sentinel is, and he knows it. The only thing he's proving with this current display is his unmatchable level of incompetence.

CHROMIA  
(at her sassiest)  
I see you're still on your intelligence training wheels.

Sentinel drops the charade but bites back a retorting insult, attempting to maintain his cool.

SENTINEL  
You watch your mouth, my dear, or—

CHROMIA  
Or what!? You'll arrest me? Send me to the stockades?

SENTINEL  
(threatening)  
Or the deactivation chamber.

CHROMIA  
(narrowing her optics)  
Anything's an improvement to your company.

SENTINEL  
(slamming his palm to the desk)  
Enough! Can we get on task please?

CHROMIA  
(leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs)  
Fine.

SENTINEL  
I know you were communicating privately with Optimus Prime and the Decepticons while we were in the Intel room.

CHROMIA  
(admiring the wax job on her fingertips)  
What gave it away? The fact that we made progress on our mission?

SENTINEL  
Progress!? You call blowing your cover to the Quints progress?

CHROMIA  
That had nothing to do with my private comm messages.

SENTINEL  
Oh really? You don't think your little session of passing love notes to Megatron distracted you from your task?

CHROMIA  
(that comment pulled a glance from her)  
No I don't. My little session helped get Optimus and Megatron on the ship.

SENTINEL  
(skeptical)  
And what exactly did Megatron do on the ship that the Autobots could've have done themselves?

CHROMIA  
Spark if I know, ask him!

SENTINEL  
(with another slam to the desk)  
Well what DO you know?

CHROMIA  
(quick to retort)  
A considerable amount more than you!

The magnus sweeps his arm across the desk, sending info pads and other various office supplies scattering to the floor. He springs up from his chair and points threatening finger to the femme.

SENTINEL  
You're walking a fine line, traitor.

She holds up her cuffed hands, unaffected by his attempt at intimidation.

CHROMIA  
What have I got to lose?!

He scowls, his chin twitching in anger. She expects him to explode with pointless responses but instead he vents a heated gush of air and drops his gaze to the floor. A few moments of awkward silence hang in the room before he speaks up again, but this time his is voice soft; almost sorrowful.

SENTINEL  
Why did you do it? …You had everything as an Autobot.

She looks at him with a puzzled expression.

CHROMIA  
Everything? What's your definition of everything?

Meeting her gaze with sincerity.

SENTINEL  
Well…me?

CHROMIA  
(rolling her optics)  
Oh wow…you are unbelievable.

He steps around the desk and approaches her, squatting at her side.

SENTINEL  
(attempting his best smile)  
C'mon 'Mia, I know you enjoyed it. (nudges her arm) We had fun together, you can't deny that.

She glances at him with a cringe of insult.

CHROMIA  
I'm a really good faker.

He stands up, planting his hands on his hips with a huff.

SENTINEL  
You couldn't have faked…everything?!

CHROMIA  
I could and I did.

SENTINEL  
I don't believe you.

CHROMIA  
(throwing her hands up)  
Then why am I here?

SENTINEL  
I mean I don't beli—You know what I mean…(shoos her off) dauughh.

He returns to his desk, flopping into his chair with a bitter sneer.

CHROMIA  
What else do you want to know?

He looks her over, contorting his frown into a pout.

SENTINEL  
What made the smallest squid attack Swindle?

CHROMIA  
His name is Sevax, and he remembered Swindle playing that trick on him.

SENTINEL  
What trick?

CHROMIA  
Does is matter now?

SENTINEL  
(kicking a leg of his desk)  
Cut the sass and tell me what happened!

CHROMIA  
(gesticulating abruptly)  
Primus, you were there in the Intel room, you heard what happened. Sevax realized Swindle tricked him then went after him! I wasn't on the fraggin' ship, I don't know any more than you do to what EXACTLY happened. Swindle stopped comming me when Sevax left the bridge.

SENTINEL  
Then tell me more about your plotting with Megatron.

The femme eases back in her chair and quirks a tiny smile at hearing the hallowed name spoken.

CHROMIA  
He came into the Intel Room after you left. (her smile widens) He said he needed me…wanted me to get him access to the space bridge.

SENTINEL  
(with more bitterness)  
Which you did, obviously.

CHROMIA  
Actually I didn't. Optimus Prime did. Once we all…well, all of us but you, realized the ninjas couldn't overpower the bridge defenses, Optimus insisted he and Megatron be warped onto the ship. I…knowing too well the overwhelming power of the Quint weapons, suggested they rally together the 'cons in Kaon as well.

SENTINEL  
How in the All Spark did they all get on the ship?

CHROMIA  
(spoken like a true brat)  
Same way the ninjas did, genius…transwarping.

SENTINEL  
(slamming both fists on the desk)  
Why did all this happen behind my back!?

CHROMIA  
(matching his volume)  
Because we had to act fast! If we stopped to get your permission first, your slow-aft deliberating would've sentenced us all to an apocalyptic fate.

SENTINEL  
(rising up with a snap)  
You don't know that!

Chromia jerks out of her chair and advances on the desk, slamming her cuffed hand upon it. Sentinel's taken back the by her expression; a rare, heated seriousness, screaming with bitter truth.

CHROMIA  
On the contrary, I do. I know exactly how you operate…with failure! You bumble through everything and you would've bumbled through that mission and gotten us all scrapped. Optimus Prime knows this too, which is why we chose to cut you out of the loop.

SENTINEL  
(in denial)  
I've heard enough of your lies.

CHROMIA  
But you haven't heard enough of the truth…The truth about how you would still be Sentinel Minor the lowly drill sergeant if it weren't for me, how every speech you barked to Ultra Magnus and the Council was influenced by (she flitters her clamped wings) my diplomatic power.

SENTINEL  
(his expression darkening)  
You didn't.

CHROMIA  
(her voice low and threatening)  
I did. The populace would've elected Optimus as magnus if you didn't have me as your puppeteer.

Sentinel stands silent, festering in disbelief as the femme's stinging truths sink in.

SENTINEL  
(shouting into his comm.)  
Guards! Get back in here.

The femme steps back from the desk, her intent stare still locked threateningly on him.

CHROMIA  
Lock me away in the deepest, darkest corner of the stockades if you like. Deny these truths till you're bluer in the face. Continue on with your fanciful delusions…it won't change the inevitable.

The pair of guards burst into the room, catching the flustered magnus's attention.

SENTINEL  
(attempting to sound commanding)  
T-take her away.

They approach the femme on either side, one of them nodding stiffly to her to. She glances at each of them then looks back to Sentinel, cracking a wicked grin.

CHROMIA  
It's only a matter of time before everyone sees right through you…sees the incompetent coward you really are.

SENTINEL  
(raising his voice)  
Get her outta here, now! And see to it her insignia is removed at once!

The guards escort her to the door but she looks back over her shoulder, still haunting the rattled magnus with her grin.

CHROMIA  
You're NOTHING without me.

**FLASHBACK - QUINTESSON SHIP - LABORATORY**

Starscream repeatedly throws himself into the door, screeching sharp, panicked shouts that escalate in volume with each impact. Through the ship's PA, a monotone androgynous voice counts down the cycles to the fate most feared by every living Cybertronian. Blackarachnia watches, stricken with worry as her hero's futile efforts produce nothing more than scuffs of red paint on the door and dents in his shoulder plating.

STARSCREAM  
(shouting between impacts)  
Where…the spark…is Swindle?!

BLACKARACHNIA  
Starscream, stop!

She grabs his forearm preventing his next lunge.

BLACKARACHNIA  
He said he'd come back for us.

He yanks his arm from her claws and plows into the door again, yelping in frustrated pain as his shoulder armor cracks. He bangs his fist into the impenetrable door.

STARSCREAM  
What is happening out there!? Why won't he answer his comm!

The spider approaches him apprehensively, placing her hand on his split shoulder. His ventilation rate is dramatic, causing a steep rise and fall to his chest with each pass of air. She tries to calm him with her touch, gliding her other hand over the base of his wing and resting her chin on his shoulder.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You need to calm down. I'm sure the Autobots have it under control. Optimus Prime said—

STARSCREAM  
(interrupting)  
Triggering the missile launch sequence is NOT under control…the reckless fools.

The seeker leans his forehead into the door, venting a gust of air that hints to hopelessness.

STARSCREAM  
I knew it would come to this.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(speaking softly into his audio)  
Come to what? What are you talking about?

STARSCREAM  
(with another slam to the door)  
How could they be so careless!? Did they even stop and consider the possibility that oh, I don't know…(his voice raises abruptly) The Quintessons weren't bluffing about the missile!!

BLACKARACHNIA  
They had a solid plan…something obviously went wrong.

He pushes off the door, yanking himself from her hold and throwing his arms out in a wide shrug.

STARSCREAM  
Obviously!

He crosses the room, violently kicking an empty energon cube out of his path. Blackarachnia stays still at the door, watching him with concern as he paces nervously and continually runs his talons across his helmet.

STARSCREAM  
One of those ninjas BETTER be capable of flight.

BLACKARACHNIA  
And if they're not?

Starscream freezes, dropping his hands to his sides and clenching is fists. The PA system announces the passing of another valuable cycle.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Once the missile launches, how long before it detonates?

STARSCREAM  
(with a hopeless shrug)  
Spark if I know!

He turns toward the converter and starts powering it on, his movements abrupt. She watches questionably as he transfers the All Spark fragment to the specimen slide.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What are you doing?

STARSCREAM  
If you want to be cured (he cranks a couple knobs to the maximum setting and slams a few switches on) then you'd better do it now.

She stands puzzled, her mouth gaping and head shaking slightly.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Now is hardly the appropriate time…(she pauses as her spark pulls heavily in her chest) and I thought we…

Starscream keeps his back turned to her as he looks over the readings on the gauges.

STARSCREAM  
We may just die today but that shouldn't stop you from attaining your goal. At least ONE of us will die with a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(inching toward him)  
What does that mean?

She slides her arms around his chest and presses her fleshy cheek against his back.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(near whisper)  
I already have a sense of fulfillment.

**BLASTER & VIBES NIGHTCLUB – PRESENT TIME**

Blackarachnia sips her energon cocktail, her four optics shrinking to slits as painful memories ping her spark. She has never felt more like a black widow then she does now. She thinks back to how his chassis felt against her cheek; how his hands felt on her body and how his lip tasted. All of these things happening only one solar cycle ago yet somehow it feels like a fleeting dream from her adolescent cycles.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(her voice soft with sorrow)  
That's when you and Swindle got there.

Prowl sits across from her, his hands folded across the table. The pair of sleek black figures nearly disappears into the dark, plush fabric of their high-backed booth. The flickering light from the candle centered between them highlights their gold detailing and reflects off the ninja's blue visor. He gazes sympathetically to the femme then unclasps his hands so he can rest one upon her blue-tipped claws.

PROWL  
May I ask…what were you discussing when we arrived?

She looks appreciatively at the light-colored hand upon hers.

BLACKARACHNIA  
He suggested I…(her shoulders sink and her optics dim) cure myself.

He responds with a furrowed brow and curious tilt to his head, pausing a moment before speaking.

PROWL  
Why didn't you?

The ninja's blunt question almost makes her smile. If it were any other bot digging so brazenly at her psyche, they'd be properly introduced to her stingers, but not this bot. He's the exception, one of the select few bots she's willing to trust. He could have her arrested and tried for crimes against the human race and for treason to his faction, but he's not going to do that and she knows it. He's here for the truth; the same truth only a few participants in yesterday's events know of. He deserves, at the very minimum, her sincerity; for the sake of his pure spark that recognized the same selfless purity in Starscream.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Because…I was already cured.

After a long moment of silence, she looks to Prowl, her optics widening in expectation of a response, but he simply gazes at her with a genuine admiration. She slides her hand over his and squeezes it, her lips curling into a tiny smile.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You have a good spark, Prowl. (her head shakes slightly in disbelief) How is it I keep finding myself in the company such noble bots.

PROWL  
Are you referring to Starscream as well?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(with a nod)  
And Optimus Prime…It amazes me how your sparks find their way to each other and light our darkest hours.

PROWL  
I…don't understand.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Optimus told me…about how you saved him.

Prowl keeps his stare fixed on her but his thoughts drift introspectively.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Back on Earth…he said your spirit pulled him from the blast…and that he's never felt closer to the All Spark than he did in that moment. (her gaze drops to the table) What I wouldn't give to restore my spark to even a flicker of that purity.

She feels a tension prickle through his fingers and responds to it by squeezing his hand tighter.

PROWL  
He spoke of that to me as well, but I have no recollection of it.

She meets his unreadable stare with revering gaze, allowing another tiny smile.

BLACKARACHNIA  
There's no need to be modest around me, hun. (she leans in closer, her curiosity fully piqued) I must know…what was it like?

PROWL  
(growing uncomfortable)  
What was _what_ like?

BLACKARACHNIA  
The Well. (her optics widened as she spoke the hallowed word) Who else was there? Do you think it's possible that…Starscream is there?

Prowl drops his gaze and shifts uncomfortably in the booth.

PROWL  
I…I can't…(quickly avoiding the subject) You underestimate yourself.

The femme's taken back by his unexpected answer.

PROWL  
(continuing)  
Your spark _is_ pure. I witnessed more than a flicker of that yesterday in your actions toward Swindle.

**FLASHBACK – QUINTESSON SHIP – LABORATORY**

The door whishes open, catching the surprised glances from Starscream and Blackarachnia. Prowl stands in the doorway with Swindle draped over his shoulder.

Just before they enter the lab, they're bombarded by streams of tentacles from the hallway's ceiling. Prowl reactively pulls Swindle back and slices through the threat with his throwing stars, but one tentacle slips by and stabs directly into Swindle's cracked spark chamber. The dealer hollers in fearful agony, doubling over and landing on his hands and knees on the lab floor. Prowl unsheathes his energon blade and cuts through the seemingly endless assault, hacking through one tentacle after the other with skillful determination. Despite his quick reactions and elegant moves, the tentacles are too numerous and they begin engulfing him. Starscream doesn't miss a beat of this and rushes to the door, pounding his fist on the close button and sparing the ninja of a fateful constriction.

Prowl staggers back, his heated stare fixed on the wriggling tentacles crushed in the door. In his periphery he sees Blackarachnia fall to Swindle's side but isn't jolted from his defensive trance until Starscream grips him by the shoulders.

STARSCREAM  
Autobot! I need your help!

The seeker's ardent red optics blaze into Prowl's visor then shift their focus to his shoulders, his expression dropping to worry as he studies the ninja's armor.

STARSCREAM  
Where are your rocket boosters?!

PROWL  
(refreshing his optics in questioning)  
Somewhere along the highway between Iacon and Kaon. Why?

STARSCREAM  
(lightly shaking the ninja)  
What the spark are they doing there?!

Prowl opens his mouth to answer but is interrupted by a desperate cry for help from Blackarachnia. They both snap their attention to witness her cradling Swindle, her hand pressed against his fading and fully exposed spark.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Look at me Swindle! Come on, stay with me!

The dealer can only groan weakly, his beady purple optics flickering erratically.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Starscream! Bring me that All Spark fragment.

The seeker releases his grip on Prowl but remains still, staring at the scene in disbelief.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Hurry, before it's too late!

With urgency he crosses the room and retrieves shard then drops into a crouch next to the desperate pair.

STARSCREAM  
You do realize you can't cure yourself without this shard.

She lifts her hand off the quickly dimming chamber and meets the seeker's concerned stare.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(with a little frustration)  
For once, Starscream, you're the one who's wrong, now put the shard in him.

Prowl approaches the scene, having heard every word of their brief conversation. He watches as Starscream places the shard in Swindle's spark chamber and his own spark fills with a genuine admiration. The dealer's chest cavity begins filling with a healing glow.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(daring a smirk)  
If you have any extra human influence to share with him, now's the time.

STARSCREAM  
(his expression strangely serious)  
I need every last drop of my nobility for what needs to happen next.

Her smirk drops instantly but before she can question him, they're engulfed by a blinding glow beaming from the injured dealer.

Prowl shields his optic visor as the glow reaches its pinnacle then lowers his hand the second he sees the light begin its retreat. Emerging from the floor, between the pair of stunned Decepticons is a shiny, restored, green and purple chassis.

Swindle springs to his feet, his hands splayed over his repaired chest, his optics wide and brighter than ever.

SWINDLE  
(triumphantly)  
Wow, I feel fantastic!

Half a dozen weapon mods suddenly pop from his back and shoulders, much to his surprise.

SWINDLE  
(looking over his shoulders)  
My oh my! I forgot about some of these babies.

Prowl can't hold back a chuckle but his mirth is interrupted by an urgent message in his comm.

OPTIMUS PRIME_  
[Prowl! We need your help on the bridge.]_

**BLASTER & VIBES NIGHTCLUB – PRESENT TIME**

PROWL  
(his petite mouth quirked in a smile)  
You should've seen Swindle fight those tentacles. While I'm not an advocate of vengeance or flashy modifications, I will not deny how impressed I was by his use of both. He was a valuable asset to our battle, possibly the final force that tipped the scale in our favor…and we have you to thank for that.

The spider smiles sincerely as she stares into her cocktail. She sees the reflection of her four optics in the pink liquid but for the first time since her accident, this visage doesn't bother her. In fact, it fills her with pride as she thinks back to the conversations that paved the way for her new self-image. She replays Starscream's blunt but honest words in her processor: foolish, bigoted, blind…beautiful.

It doesn't take long before her pride is washed away by pain, but not a pain she's used to. She wonders if this is pain is comparable to what Optimus felt when he thought Elita One went offline. Is it possible that he cared so deeply? That he loved her? She knows she loved him once but he has no place in her life now. He doesn't see her for who she is…not the way Starscream did. His is the only spark hers longs for; the one spark she hopes continues his pattern of immortality. It's only a matter of time before he resurfaces and when he does, she'll be waiting. But how long does she have to wait?

PROWL  
Blackarachnia?

The smooth voice snaps her back into the conversation. Prowl tilts his head curiously, trying to read her.

PROWL  
Are you able to tell me what happened after Swindle and I left the lab?

Her shoulders slump and her gaze drops to the table. She wraps both hands around her drink, her claws tracing the smooth curve of the glass. Prowl places a reassuring hand upon her arm.

PROWL  
If it is too difficult then—

BLACKARACHNIA  
(interrupting)  
No…I can tell you. You need to know…everyone needs to know…(she fights back the lump in her throat) He was so brave.

**FLASHBACK – QUINTESSON SHIP – LABORATORY**

Blackarachnia and Starscream are still seated on the floor where Swindle had been. They watch in awe through the open door of the lab and into the hall as Prowl and Swindle tear through the tentacles with ease. Swindle chuckles pompously as his mods do most of the work, blasting, chopping and shredding. Prowl is almost frustrated that every tentacle he slices through is a lifeless remnant of the dealer's carnage.

STARSCREAM  
(genuinely impressed)  
I never knew he had it in him.

The spider shifts her attention to Starscream, rising to her knees and scooting closer to him. With a light tug to his cheek, she turns his head to look at her, her optics beaming in paranoia.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What happens now?

She watches regrettably as his smile fades and his optics narrow when they meet hers. He vents deeply as her hand lingers on his cheek, her thumb inching toward his lips.

STARSCREAM  
(his tone dark)  
Do I really need to tell you?

He brings her other hand up to the side of his head then presses her hands against helmet.

STARSCREAM  
Use you power on me.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What? Why?

STARSCREAM  
(with urgency)  
You'll need my null ray to blast through any remaining tentacles on your way to the bridge. Now, use your power, quickly. I need to…get to the missile.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(her optics widen in fear)  
You don't have to do this! Didn't you hear Prowl's conversation with Optimus? The other 'cons are here, on the bridge. Lugnut, Blitzwing…Megatron even…all of them can fly and they're not (she glances at his wing restraints)…encumbered.

STARSCREAM  
(lecturing somewhat tactlessly)  
Blackarachnia, I know you are not deaf and you can hear the countdown just as clearly as I can. I also know you are not stupid. You know damn well Megatron and the others won't listen to me, especially if I try to convince them to put their sparks on the line. Now, please…use your power on me.

She opens her mouth to protest but can't formulate any words. Her ventilation rate increases as her spark sinks heavily. She stares at him desperately, memorizing every detail of his face.

Her forearms and blue fingertips light up causing a crackling energy field to grow between her hands and his helmet. Starscream tilts his head back and clenches his teeth, riding out the static shock with a strained groan. She gasps at the unexpected mass of information that floods her processor, her optics widening in surprise.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What was that?

He doesn't respond but relaxes in relief as the energy dies down and the information transfer finishes. He regains his characteristic smirk and meets her optics again.

STARSCREAM  
Was it good for you too?

She doesn't acknowledge his joke and instead presses into an intense kiss, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing tightly. Her spark hitches in the few moments when she feels him tense in her embrace but she chases her doubts away when his hands brush across her arms, over her shoulders then down her back. He wraps his talons around her waist then rises from the floor, bringing her with him so their kiss doesn't break. He pulls her body tightly against his and moans softly into her mouth.

She could have melted in passion, relishing every detail of him; his warmth, his strength, his intensity… and his fear. She breaks the kiss with a gasp as she feels his spark cry out to hers. She stares into him, ready to split wide open at the desperation and uncertainty beaming from his optics. She had seen him frightened before, usually right before he was blasted by Megatron's fusion-cannon, but the fear staring at her in this moment was an entirely different creature.

Since his resurrection he's been strong and confident, surprising her at every turn with his reassuring logic and valuable advice. She owes him everything and wishes more than anything that she had the ability to fly so she could spare him of this inevitable danger, but she knows that's not possible. She can borrow many powers but flight is not one of them. All she can think to offer him in this moment is optimism; a tactic she filed away long ago as useless but decides this is the appropriate moment to pull it from the dusty catacombs of her Autobot programming.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(leaning her forehead against his)  
You'll be fine.

Her words dance across his lips and hearing them out loud fills her with a hope that they're true. She kisses him again, moaning lightly as her next urge of reassurance presses to be spoken.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(whispering)  
Nothing can extinguish your spark… (she pauses her thought to sneak a quick kiss) Especially not some stupid Quintesson weapon.

They steal a few more kisses, tilting their heads to a new angle between each kiss. Starscream's mouth quivers into a smile and Blackarachnia bites back a sob. He nuzzles his nose into her cheek, holding fast to his smile.

STARSCREAM  
I don't intend to stick around for the detonation.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(slipping a quick chuckle between sobs)  
You better not.

Her smile fades quickly as she pushes into a final, passionate and spark wrenching kiss. His hands drop from her helmet onto her shoulders then press lightly in an attempt to separate them. The unbearable and inevitable moment forces a whimper from her but she relents to pull away.

BLACKARACHNIA

(her voice wavering)  
How are you going to transform with those restraints on?

He releases her and heads for the exit, stopping in the doorway to look back with a crooked, nervous smile.

STARSCREAM  
(his voice small and unsure)  
Don't need to transform. (he glances down to his feet) Thrusters work fine.

He activates the hologram mod and disappears just before entering the hallway.

**BLASTER & VIBES NIGHTCLUB – PRESENT TIME**

Blackarachnia stares at what remains of her cocktail, swirling it around in the bottom of her glass.

BLACKARACHNIA  
That was the last time I saw him.

Prowl doesn't respond. He's silenced by the final image painted in is head; the image of a smile one gives when embarking into the frightening realm of the unknown.

Vibes strolls up to their booth, serving tray tilting precariously on her fingertips. Everything about her is slowed down as her Independence Day hangover drags heavily on her chassis. Her droopy optics manage a glance between the spider's face and her near-empty glass, offering only a nod as a means to suggest a refill. Blackarachnia responds with a grateful nod then drops her sorrowful gaze back down. Vibes doesn't have the energy to play therapist tonight and instead averts her attention to the familiar ninja; the one who enjoys bringing disruptive customers to her club. A single raised brow is the only communication she offers him.

PROWL  
(casting her a quick glance)  
I am fine, thank you.

She continues to look him over skeptically, planting her hand on her jutted hip.

VIBES  
Yar friends comin' by tonight?

The ninja replies with another glance and a quick, stiff shake of his head. The femme relaxes and turns away, muttering as she ambles off.

VIBES  
Good ting…I have not da strenght ta deal wit der reeff rawff tonight.

Prowl starts fidgeting with a napkin, his processor spinning as he mulls over a pinging question. He wasn't sure how much he should keep pressing the femme, what with only a solar cycle passing since the painful event, but his curiosity is tough to suppress. He knows now, without a doubt, Starscream was ready to sacrifice himself but whether he actually went through with it is still up for debate.

PROWL  
I'm…confused about a portion of your story.

Blackarachnia lifts two of her four droopy optics to him.

PROWL  
How did you fend off the tentacles in the hallway without his null ray?

She furrows her uppermost brow, refreshing her optics with confusion.

PROWL  
I assume the effects had already worn off by the time you left the laboratory.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(her voice hinting to pride)  
My webs were more than adequate to handle a few pathetic tentacles. Starscream was just being overly cautious.

PROWL  
Are you sure? You said you felt a rush of information. Is that typical when you upload a borrowed ability?

The spider refreshes her optics some more, her processor rebooting out of her energon haze as she ponders over the ninja's question. Suddenly, her optics pop wide with wonder. She purposely tips her glass over, spilling the remaining energon then dragging a single a claw through the pink liquid. She scribbles some numbers and math symbols on the table.

Her actions have captured Prowl's undivided attention and he quickly makes out her scribbling to be an equation.

PROWL  
What is that?...A formula?

Blackarachnia raises her dumbfounded stare to the blue optic visor which beams curiosity back to her. She lingers in the stare a bewildered moment then drops her jaw in a slapping realization.

BLACKARACHNIA  
That clever son-of-a-glitch.


	34. Showdown Part Three

_A/N: HUGE update this week, too huge to contain in one chapter._

_xoxo to antepathy and Optimus Bob, my faithful beta readers. ^_^_

_Tidbits:  
-Corrodia Gravis is extremely obscure TF comics canon, but it's canon nontheless. Although I made up the bit about Starscream's history with it.  
-Poor Prowl has been taken through yet another angsty rollercoaster. I didn't plan that, it just happened and I honestly don't know what the point of it was other than some juicy drama.  
-Lastly, I am clearly not an expert on the workings of missile guidance systems. =P_

_

* * *

  
_

**BLASTER & VIBES NIGHT CLUB – PRESENT TIME**

Optimus is lucky to find a table. The place is packed for a week night, much to his surprise. Cybertron's population, outside of the Elite Guard and the small band of Decepticons, had been completely unaware of the Quintesson threat but apparently a large number of them have the urge to continue their Independence Day revelries.

Optimus hadn't been here before but he figures it's the best place to meet with his old academy mate for the inevitable interrogation. He hopes the club's neutral standing and location will pull Sentinel out of his magnus role just long enough to recall that he and Optimus were once close friends and therefore be more apt to listen with an open processor. He hadn't expected Sentinel to agree to meet him here, but oddly enough the mech did. Their comm call to arrange the meeting had left Optimus curious, given the strangely sedated tone of Sentinel's voice. He had sounded distant, almost disturbed.

Optimus nods appreciatively to Vibes as she serves him a cube of high grade. He typically doesn't drink but considering the mech he's about to meet with, he figures it couldn't hurt. He glances up after a sip just as said mech approaches the table, looking the club over skeptically before taking his seat.

SENTINEL  
Why the spark did you want to meet here? (takes another sweeping view of the club) There's plenty of places like this in Iacon. Why'd you make me drive all the way out—

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(interrupting)  
Because it's blind to faction. (he stares intently at the royal blue bot) Just as we all were yesterday.

The doubting magnus leans back in his chair, holding the prime's stare a moment before catching Vibes's attention with a brash wave. He points to Optimus's cube and signals her to bring two more.

SENTINEL  
(focusing back on Optimus)  
Seems to me this neutral trend has carried over from yesterday.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Yes…and let's hope it stays that way.

Sentinel smiles and nods with what only could be described as bitterness. His gaze drops to the table and he leans his forehead into his palm, venting a gust of air.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(with genuine concern)  
Something wrong?

The large blue chin bobs up and down with more nodding.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(his voice deep but soft)  
Is it…Chromia?

Another gust of air vents from the uncharacteristically distressed magnus followed by more nodding.

Optimus opens his mouth to speak but can't find the words before Vibes appears with a pair of full cubes. She looks over Sentinel with an acute curiosity, setting the cubes down gently then placing her hand on his shoulder.

VIBES  
You have no reason to be blue.

Optimus quirks a questioning glance to her which she counters with a wink.

VIBES  
Unless, of course, ya brought it on yarself.

She turns away with a proud smile and disappears into the social hum drum. Sentinel can only respond with a grumble as he tilts the entire contents of a cube down his throat. He slams the empty cube down and wipes his arm across his frown.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Do you want to talk about it?

SENTINEL  
About what?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
You know…you…her…a broken spark.

SENTINEL  
(lacking sincerity)  
A broken spark…sure…that's what's eating me…(his voice drifts introspectively) a broken spark.

He shakes his head and grabs his second cube, downing it as quickly as the first.

SENTINEL  
(slamming his cube down)  
But enough about me. (he clears his throat and attempts to regain his composure) I need you to tell me what happened with that missile. Is it true you put your spark on the line to redirect its course?

Optimus sighs at his comrade's typically dismissive behavior. Here he thought, just for a moment, the mech might actually show his fabled genuine side. Letting it go, the prime stares into his untouched cube, his thoughts drifting back. The side of his mouth curls into a disbelieving smile.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I wasn't the only one.

**FLASHBACK – QUINTESSON SHIP – TRANSPORT ROOM**

Two commanding silhouettes phase onto the warp platform, both of similar shape with their narrow waists and broad chassis but one considerably larger than the other and carrying a large cannon attached to one arm.

MEGATRON  
(speaking loudly over the shrill alarms)  
How long must we wait for my Decepticons to be transported?

The anxious tyrant steps down off the platform, his silver chassis reflecting the emergency red lighting, making him appear all the more menacing. The prime follows his lead, relieved to have this formidable figure on his side.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Bulkhead said they'd be right behind us.

As Optimus spoke these words, the transwarp platform hums to life again, its area filling with the materializing image of three familiar and intimidating forms. Lugnut, Blitzwing and Shockwave emerge from the glow, all three of them locking threatening glares to the red and blue Autobot standing next to their leader.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
Ve are here, Lord Megatron. (he approaches Optimus with balled fists) You no longer need ze help of zis...pezky Autobot.

Optimus stands his ground, staring deep into the red optic visor and gap-toothed scowl, refusing to convey the uneasiness building in his spark. He was at the mercy of Megatron's orders now, a fact that made every circuit shrink under his plating.

MEGATRON  
Stand down, Blitzwing. Now is not the time to feed our grudges.

Lugnut forcefully tugs his three-face comrade back and narrows his most prominent optic at him.

LUGNUT  
We attack when our glorious leader commands us to attack.

The prime vents a hint of relief allowing himself the slightest of grateful nods to his unlikely ally. He then shifts his attention to the screaming alarms and computerized voice counting down the launch.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
We need to get to the bridge.

He pulls the ship's map onto his HUD then signals for the four towering mechs to follow him.

They move as a group into the hallway, the Decepticons dutifully in step with their leader. Megatron slows his stride, signaling his soldiers as they pass by him questioningly, to keep following the prime. Optimus stops and turns around upon hearing the commotion, catching Megatron's optic.

MEGATRON  
You go on ahead. I have my own matters to attend to.

Optimus pushes past the 'cons and approaches Megatron with concern.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
We should stick together as a team.

MEGATRON  
(unwavering)  
I have a cowardly traitor to track down.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Forget him, Megatron. We need you on the bridge.

MEGATRON  
If my soldiers do not prove adequate in your battle then contact me via commlink. (he turns and walks away) But I highly doubt you'll need to. They are quite powerful allies.

The 'cons puff up in pride but Optimus vents a frustrated sigh.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Alright, Autob-- …Decepticons, let's move.

**BLASTER AND VIBES NIGHT CLUB – PRESENT TIME**

SENTINEL  
You were leading them?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Yeah…hard to believe right?

SENTINEL  
They didn't put up any resistance?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
No. Megatron ordered them to follow me…so they followed.

SENTINEL  
What about Megatron? Did he find Starscream?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I'm not certain what happened to Starscream.

SENTINEL  
Your ninjabot seems to think he was on our side.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
What? Prowl said…?

SENTINEL  
Yeah, he said he'd been communicating with that weasel even before we knew about the Quint threat. He said Starscream was the (he pauses to chuckle in disbelief)…big hero in all this. Starscream! (his chuckles erupt into a guffaw then die down into snickers) Poor Prowl really needs to recharge.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(doubtful)  
He never told me that. Are you sure?

SENTINEL  
Positively. (waves it off) Bah! Whatever, unimportant. Get back to your story. What happened on the bridge?

Optimus takes a sip of his energon, his processor still chewing on the new, unsettling information.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(speaking somewhat distantly)  
We got there just in time. Jazz's team was looking pretty bad and Lockdown and Sari were backed into a corner.

**FLASHBACK – QUINTESSON SHIP – BRIDGE**

Optimus Prime and the three Decepticons burst onto the scene, weapons readied. They immediately catch the attention of Jazz and the ninja team, as well as the Quintessons whose faces shift from War to Death.

JAZZ  
Now that's what I call back up.

Hothead Blitzwing steps into the fray, punching away any tentacle in his path and looking over the scene with a wild reflection dancing across his optic visor. He locks focus onto the pair of egg-shaped antagonists hiding behind the glass barrier.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
Ze enemy has been spotted!

His shoulder guns cock forward as he pushes through the wriggling chaos and approaches the center platform. He meets the glare of a pair of falsely confident Death faces then lightly raps on the transparent shield. His face switches to Random and a deranged grin spreads across it.

DELIBERATA  
Psychotic imbecile! You have not the power to breech our defenses.

RANDOM BLIZTWING  
Vhat vas zhat you say? You vant ze deep fried calamari? (switching to Hothead) Coming right up!

He blasts the barrier with a rush of firepower, causing the two aliens to flinch fearfully.

Optimus Prime plows his axe through the wriggling bombardment streaming from the walls and ceiling. His movements are strong and deliberate. He glances at Jazz between swings and it stings his spark to see the elite ninja's chassis lacerated and the headlights cracked. Jazz twirls his nunchucks with elegance and precision but he's unable to mask his exhaustion. Optimus fights his way to him and they position themselves in a back-to-back fighting stance.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
How are you holding up?

Jazz tears through a couple tentacles, his grunts strained and almost painful.

JAZZ  
Still on my pedes.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(surveying the room)  
Where's Prowl?

JAZZ  
Took off with Swindle. I didn't catch the low down as to why but I figure they went for the missile.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
The missile!? (chops through another tentacle with a grunt) He better not try anything risky.

JAZZ  
Man…don't say that.

The ship's voice announces the passing of another cycle, catching the prime's attention.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Is that countdown what I think it is?

JAZZ  
Word. (he kicks his leg free of a tentacle threatening to wrap around it) But it's not as bad as all that, I mean…we have a plan right?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
According to Blackarachnia, any flyer can redirect its trajectory after it's launched. It worries me that Prowl and Swindle are the only ones who have gone after it, though. Can Swindle fly?

JAZZ  
Don't think so, but neither can Prowl. He ain' got his boosters on.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Thank Primus…(he chops another tentacle) but that still doesn't solve our root problem of stopping that missile.

A half-dozen tentacles suddenly converge onto the prime and the ninja, taking them by surprise. They struggle against the constricting threat, quickly losing ground. Their plight is short-lived, however, as a large green claw sweeps over them, yanking the tentacles clean out of the ceiling.

LUGNUT  
You Autobots talk too much!

The lumbering bomber fires his missiles into the ceiling, taking out an entire quadrant of tentacle-spawning panels. He clears a path to Lockdown and Sari.

LUGNUT  
Go help your precious organic and that wretched undecided.

The Autobot pair complies gratefully, slinking past the giant Decepticon. Lugnut switches his attention to Blitzwing and narrows his largest optic in annoyance as he watches the heated triple changer futilely blow-torching the shield.

LUGNUT  
Blitzwing! Stop being useless!

He moves toward his comrade, ripping away any tentacle that dares cross his path.

BLITZWING  
(switching to Icy and rubbing his chin quizzically)  
Perhaps I need a new approach.

Shockwave approaches Blitzwing from the side, blasting away stray tentacles with his arm cannon.

SHOCKWAVE  
You need to alternate your attacks. Extreme temperature changes will weaken the integrity of the shield's molecular bonding.

The lead Quintesson fills with a raging fear upon hearing this. He frantically taps some commands into the small control console hovering next to his captain's chair.

A bombardment of tentacles come streaming from the adjacent walls and instantly engulf the three Decepticons, wrapping tight around their arms and necks. They fight to pull free, growling and tugging fiercely, but to no avail.

The Quintessons laugh sinisterly at the sight of this, switching faces a couple times just so they can cackle with multiple voices.

DELIBERATA  
You fools do not have the strength nor the energon to take on ALL of our defenses.

Optimus kept his optic on the center stage the entire time, not missing a beat of the Decepticons' predicament. He and Jazz meet up with Warpath and Firestar who are also working their way over to the corner that Lockdown and Sari are trapped in.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
We need to get Deliberata away from the control console and the only way we're going to do that is to break through that shield.

WARPATH  
If you cover me, I'll head over there. (he fiercely slices his katanas through a couple tentacles) Then I'll give that shield and those aliens a KAPOW, BA—

OPTIMUS PRIME  
No, you're needed here. We need to keep these tentacles off of Sari and Lockdown. Jazz and Firestar are losing energon fast and won't be able to keep it up on their own.

FIRESTAR  
(leaning into Warpath's back and speaking weakly)  
We'll be fine…I just need a…need a breather.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(casting a femme a doubting look then speaking into his comm)  
Prowl, we need you on the bridge.

FIRESTAR  
Do you really think Prowl alone can tip the scales in our favor?

JAZZ  
You'd be surprised, sista.

PROWL  
(from Optimus's comm)  
_[Are you on the ship?]_

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Yes, and so are Megatron and the 'cons.

PROWL  
_[Then why do you need me? I believe my assistance is needed with the missile.]_

OPTIMUS PRIME  
No! (switches to silent comm speak)_ [Please Prowl…no. Don't make me give you a direct order.]_

PROWL  
_[Prime, the deactivation of that missile is more important than…]_

Optimus hears some voices the background.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Who's there with you? Is that Swindle?

PROWL  
_[Yes, we're here with Blackarachnia and Sta—]_

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(interrupting)  
Blackarachnia? Is she okay?

**BLASTER AND VIBES NIGHTCLUB – PRESENT TIME**

BLACKARACHNIA  
Seen better cycles, but thanks for asking.

Optimus and Sentinel snap their attention to the pair of sleek black figures standing over the table.

PROWL  
Mind if we join you?

Optimus rises, pulling a chair out for the femme and giving her a valiant smile. She takes a seat returning his kindness with a sweet smile and a squeeze to his arm.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(glancing to Prowl)  
What are you two doing here?

PROWL  
Same as you I'm guessing.

Sentinel glances skeptically between the ninja and the spider and she returns his glance with a repulsed sneer.

SENTINEL  
(sneering back at the femme but speaking to Prowl)  
There some information you're withholding from me, Prowl?

Optimus offers his seat to Prowl then borrows a chair for himself from the next table over.

PROWL  
(taking a seat with a grateful nod to his prime)  
I withheld nothing, Sentinel Magnus. You simply refused to trust me.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(a raised brow stretching her disgusted expression)  
Why does that not surprise me.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(pausing with concern before taking his seat)  
What do you mean, Prowl? (looking to Sentinel) Is this about Starscream?

PROWL  
Yes. Our magnus won't accept the truth that Starscream is the unsung hero.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(snapping at Sentinel)  
Why you filthy piece of—

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Blackarachnia please.

He places a calming hand on her shoulder.

SENTINEL  
(glaring at the spider but addressing everyone)  
How do expect me to believe that flying snake would be capable of anything besides wreaking havoc? (focusing on Optimus) You remember your Great War history don't you? (pointing a finger to the femme) I know you do because you did my homework for me in that class.

BLACKARACHIA  
That doesn't matter now. That was a long time ago and Starscream is different now.

PROWL  
(raising his hand apprehensively)  
I didn't do my academy homework but even if I did, I don't see how past events from a useless conflict could possibly alter what we experienced firsthand with Starscream.

BLACKARACHNIA  
They don't, Prowl. As usual, Sentinel has no slaggin' clue what he's talking about.

SENTINEL  
(slamming his fist down)  
You will address me as Magnus and I know exactly what I'm talking about. You've all heard of Corrodia Gravis right? The nanovirus that wiped out countless soldiers on both sides of the battlefront? Who do you think invented that nasty little bug? It wasn't Megatron. He didn't even approve of it.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Please Sentinel, we don't need a history lesson now. Blackarachnia's right, it's beside the point.

Blackarachnia folds her arms across her chest, tossing the magnus a snooty 'so there' nod.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
However, I know for a fact that Starscream was nowhere to be found after the missile launched.

BLACKARACHNIA  
That's because he was WITH the missile, flying it out of Cybertronian air space.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
No, he wasn't. I'm sorry…but it was Megatron and I that took care of the missile and we saw no trace of Starscream.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(gaping in heartbroken disbelief)  
How can that be?

PROWL  
I…I don't understand.

Sentinel leans back in his chair, crossing his arms pompously.

SENTINEL  
Finally, someone's coming clean with the truth. Shoulda known it'd be you Optimus…can't get enough of the hero spotlight can ya? (nudges a couple fingers into Prowl's arm and grins stupidly) Watch out, ninjabot. You might have some competition for that spot in the Hall of Heroes.

PROWL  
(scowling at the Magnus is disgust)  
You are insufferable.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(dropping his face into his palm and venting a long sigh)  
He's had a couple cubes.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(snapping at Optimus)  
Don't make excuses for him!

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(popping his head up and gesticulating desperately)  
I'm not! I'm just trying to… (another sigh) Do you all want to hear what happened or what?

SENTINEL  
You just said what happened. You and Megatron took care of the missile. (applauds condescendingly) Bravo, excellent work. You saved the planet and made one of its most feared tyrants martyr himself. That's quite the multi-tasking and certainly one for the history books.

The three just stare slack-jawed at the overcharged magnus.

SENTINEL  
(continuing obliviously)  
The real question is, how did the head Quint escape? What was there like, ALL of you on the ship's bridge and you still let one (he stops to count with his fingers) one THIRD of the enemy escape!?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(springing from her chair)  
I can't handle any more of this!

She stomps off into the crowd, clipping a couple shoulders as she goes then storming out the exit.

PROWL  
(looking upon Sentinel in pity)  
Are you naturally gifted with such superb social skills or is it a learned ability?

SENTINEL  
(with a careless shrug)  
Little a'both.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Look Sentinel, I don't know how Deliberata escaped. I had already left the bridge by then to help Megatron with the missile, and he didn't martyr himself, by the way…(his voice shifts into slight mourning) My jetpack did.

PROWL  
(speaking up regretfully)  
I know how Deliberata escaped…(he instantly captures the curious attention of the other two Autobots) It was my fault.


	35. Unsung Hero?

**FLASHBACK – QUINTESSON SHIP – BRIDGE**

Prowl and Swindle burst through the bridge doors, expecting a welcoming assault of tentacles and not having their expectations shot down. With a wide grin, the dealer unleashes his collection of buffed mods onto the flailing force, clearing a path toward the center of the room. Prowl darts his glance around, shocked to see the state of defeat the 'cons and the ninjas are in. Blitzwing, Shockwave and Lugnut writhe fearfully in the grip of the tentacles. The ninja team is backed into a corner, Warpath and Lockdown taking the brunt of the assault while Jazz, Firestar and Sari struggle against their own exhaustion.

Optimus Prime chops his way over to Prowl and Swindle, his chassis severely lacerated and his windshield cracked but his strength not faltering in the slightest.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I need you two to help the 'cons. I believe they know of a way to break through that shield.

PROWL  
What are you going to do?

Optimus turns toward the door but squeezes Prowl's shoulder confidently before walking away.

PROWL  
(reaching out to him)  
Optimus!

The ninja cuts himself off, silenced by the irony of the situation. He forces himself to let his leader go, knowing well the prime is doing exactly what his spark is telling him to do.

Swindles pushes to the center platform, making short work of the tentacles with his shoulder blasters and arm cannon. Prowl quickly closes the gap between them, taking refuge once again in the wake of the one bot wrecking crew.

DELIBERATA  
Swindle! How dare you continue to defy us?! You owe us your very existence.

SWINDLE  
(unbothered)  
Yeah, about that. (he blasts Blitzwing free of the tentacles) I decided it's high time I traded my creators in for a newer model. One that comes will a full money-back guarantee and doesn't suck afterburner on in cosmic proportions.

Icy Blitzwing immediately unleashes a torrent of cold onto the Quintesson's shield.

BLITZWING  
I am happy to see you finally allied yourself vis us, Svindle.

He switches to Hothead then blasts the layer of ice with a massive flame.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
But don't expect me to like you yet!

Swindle frees Lugnut of the wriggling constraints while Prowl cuts Shockwave loose.

Blitzwing switches back to Icy and covers the heated shield with another sheet of ice.

ICY BLITZWING  
You vould no doubt be plotting against us again if ze planet's livelihood vere not at stake.

LUGNUT  
(rearing back his balled fist)  
Is this discussion really necessary, Blitzwing?

The massive 'con plows his punch into the ice, shattering it into hundreds of shards and creating a small crack in the shield. Panic washes over the Quintessons' death faces and they cower back to the opposite side of the cylindrical shield.

RANDOM BLITZWING  
Ooohhh, Lugnut. You vere always good at breaking ze ice!

The triple-changer blasts a mix of hot and cold directly onto the crack in the shield.

RANDOM BLITZWING  
Sorry Qvintezzons, but haven't you heard ze old saying? Two faces's company, three's a thrill, four's too many and five is overkill.

He unleashes another blast of fire and ice, which causes the Quintessons to cower even more. The sound of cracking glass fills the room and Swindle's smile spreads like the crack up the shield.

SWINDLE  
Shockwave! Blitzwing! Lemme see those sexy tank models of yours.

The two 'cons look at each other with wide, realizing optics then transform excitedly into their requested mode.

SWINDLE  
Lugnut, you still have that fine quality mace I sold you eons ago?

Lugnut proudly removes the weapon from his back and equips it into both claws.

SWINDLE  
Excellent!

The hopped-up dealer blasts a few tentacles that threaten to spoil his high.

DELIBERATA  
(panicked)  
Swindle, you will pay dearly for this!

SWINDLE  
Pay?! (he chuckles heartily) You should know by now Del, I don't pay dearly for anything. (he looks back over his shoulder to Prowl) You might wanna step back to a safe distance.

The ninja complies, his optics wide with anticipation behind the visor. He glances to the pack of ninjas catching Lockdown's attention. The hunter tosses him a 'what's the story' gesture and Prowl replies with an 'everything will be fine' nod. He sees a pair of beady blue optics pop out from behind Lockdown's foot and a small brown hand point with warning in his direction.

SARI  
Prowl, behind you!

Before the ninja can react, a pair of tentacles wrap tightly around his arms. He strains to free himself but the grip is too tight. He catches an intent glare from the head Quintesson moments before the deafening combined blast from the tanks' cannons roars into the shield, turning the one crack into hundreds of branching splits. Through the chaos, Prowl keeps his focus on Deliberata and sees him pull a large blaster from a compartment in the captain's chair.

Lugnut swings his mighty mace back over his shoulder, causing Swindle, Bliztwing and Shockwave to back up in fearful anticipation. They know their hulking comrade is the final force needed to break the barrier and Lugnut doesn't disappoint them. When the mace strikes the shield, a shattering explosion ensues, sending thousands of splintered shards flying in every direction.

Shockwave immediately blasts the defense control panel, causing all the tentacles in the room to go limp.

Prowl drops to his knees, relieved to free of the restraints but winces painfully at the crushed metal on his arms.

Blitzwing pops into robot mode then covers Brinn in a sheet of cold, imprisoning him in a block of ice. He switches to Hothead then darts his glance around searching for Deliberata and growling through his gapped teeth when he doesn't see him.

Prowl feels a presence approach him and looks up, expecting to see Jazz or Lockdown but instead finds himself staring into the barrel of a menacing alien blaster.

The ninja team gasps in unison upon seeing this then emerge from their corner shoving and kicking limp tentacles out of their path. Jazz pushes past Warpath to the front of the pack, his spark shrinking in horror when he sees Deliberata's tentacle twitching unsteadily on the blaster's trigger.

The Decepticons stand in silence as well, cursing themselves for letting the head Quintesson slip through their grasp during the chaos.

DELIBERATA  
Let me escape and I might spare this pathetic bot a painful offlining. Now, everyone, throw your weapons down.

Prowl looks regretfully over the many sets of optics staring back at him, his spark stinging from the mix of exhaustion, rage and fear beaming from them. His focus stops on Jazz's desperate gaze.

PROWL  
Don't do it.

Jazz shakes his head then throws his nun chucks down. Sari follows suit and retracts her energon blades and Lockdown reluctantly lowers his chainsaw.

PROWL  
(with a defeated whisper)  
No.

Warpath and Firestar throw down their weapons a moment later then look to the Decepticon with expectation.

Swindle scowls at this, his optics widening in paranoia.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING  
(looking to the ninjas with frustration)  
Vhat are you doing? Ve have two zem and he only has von of ours. Ve are in a much better position for bargaining.

SWINDLE  
(retracting all his weapon mods)  
No we're not.

Deliberata snickers pompously, positioning himself behind Prowl. He inches toward the door but keeps the blaster pointed at the ninja's back.

DELIBERATA  
You know me too well, Swindle.

SHOCKWAVE  
(transforming into robot mode)  
What does he mean by that?

SWINDLE  
(speaking to everyone)  
We have no leverage. Deliberata doesn't care about the other Quints. He would sooner kill his own kind then allow himself to be captured by—

DELIBERATA  
(interrupting)  
By the joke of the universe! You Cybertronians are pathetic and hardly deserving of this planet. You are completely clueless of the true potential of your precious energon crystals, your processers too limited to grasp their power. (he inches closer the door) I would love to stay and chat more about your incompetence but instead, I'll leave you with parting gift.

SWINDLE  
Nooo!

Prowl hears the sliding of the Quintesson's tentacle across the trigger moments before Swindle's cry. Soon his audio receptors fill with same cries from ninjas and then he feels a penetration of heat into his back, bursting through his tanks then into his spark chamber. Everything shifts into slow motion as a flaring pain ignites through his chest. He hears the scraping of the Quintesson's tentacles behind him for only a short time before they fade behind the closing of the bridge door. He feels the vibration on the floor as the ninja team rushes to him. The hazy image of Jazz and Sari falling to his side is the last thing he sees before his broken chassis crumples to the floor. His vision goes dark and he drifts into unconsciousness to the desperate sounds of his closest friends calling his name.

**BLASTER & VIBES NIGHT CLUB – PRESENT TIME**

Optimus Prime desperately grabs Prowl by the arm and turns the sleek body to face him. His other hand presses to the black chest as he studies the ninja's chassis carefully, his face stricken with a mix of horror and regret.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
He shot you!?

He tugs Prowl forward and continues the meticulous study of his body, running his fingers over the golden tanks and baffled to find them perfectly intact.

SENTINEL  
(his speech is slurred)  
How the spark are you sitting here talking to us then? No one can survive a direct blast to the spark chamber from a Quintessonian blaster. I think you're imagining—

PROWL  
(snapping at the Magnus)  
Processor over Matter…I am sorry you don't see the purpose of the practice but it is indeed what saved me.

Optimus releases his grasp on Prowl but keeps his uncomprehending stare fixed on him.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Did you use it on yourself?

PROWL  
(inappropriately stoic)  
No, I was unconscious. I awoke to sounds of a harmonic humming and found my spark chamber intact without a hint of damage. Blackarachnia had arrived by then and was kneeling by my side along with Lockdown.

He drops his gaze and rubs his hand across his chest, his thoughts drifting inwardly. His unemotional charade starts breaking down as the shame from the memory grows more vivid.

PROWL  
Sari was draped over me in tearful joy…the cyber ninja team seated around me, their hands joined…Apparently it took all their combined focus to heal me.

Optimus leans his forehead into his palms.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
No matter how hard I try to protect you…

PROWL  
My destiny is not yours to control…I'm not sure who's in control of it but whoever it is, they are quite sadistic.

Sentinel stretches his arms out and growls through a gaping yawn.

SENTINEL  
That's quite the story, ninjabot…Perhaps I might have overlooked the usefulness of this…Processor over Matter business.

He signals Vibes to bring another cube.

SENTINEL  
So…the head squid used you as a diversion so he could escape?

Optimus Prime lifts his head from his hands to cast a reprimanding glare to the magnus, scowling at his tactlessness.

PROWL  
(regretfully)  
Yes. Unfortunately he made it to an escape pod, despite the attempts the Decepticons made to catch up to him.

Optimus rests a reassuring hand on Prowl's shoulder.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
What's important is that we're all alive.

PROWL  
(shaking his head)  
I wish that were the case.

He looks up to meet the prime's uncomprehending stare.

PROWL  
We still don't know what became of Starscream.

SENTINEL  
(rolling his optics)  
Here we go again.

He shakes his head then casts an almost pitying look upon Prowl.

SENTINEL  
Isn't it obvious what happened?...He escaped with the Quint. There's no two ways about it. (shifts his glance to Optimus) Wouldn't you agree?

PROWL  
(beckoning to Optimus)  
No, he would not have done that. I know for certain he was on our side.

The prime return's his soldier's pleading stare with a regretful shrug.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I'm sorry Prowl…but I saw no evidence of that.

SENTINEL  
Did Megatron track that traitor down like he said he would?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
No, not from what I could tell. I met up with him at the missile bay, moments after the launch.

Vibes strolls up to their table and delivers Sentinel's cube, but her presence isn't enough to break the pair of curious stares fixed on Optimus. She shrugs indifferently and wanders off.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
It was odd…Megatron just stood there, frozen in a state of…I don't know what: fear, anger, bewilderment? He was damaged too, like he'd taken a couple hits from a blaster.

SENTINEL  
The Quintesson's blaster?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Possibly, but his injuries weren't that severe.

**FLASHBACK – QUINTESSONIAN SHIP – MISSILE BAY**

Optimus Prime approaches the stunned Decepticon leader, snapping him out of his daze with the sound of his voice.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
What happened? Did you find Starscream?

Megatron looks upon him with an unreadable frown then shifts his glance back down to the tiny shapes and hazy colors that make up Kaon below them. His feet are perched at the very edge of the gaping missile bay hatch.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
What's the status of the missile?

MEGATRON  
Are you deaf, Autobot. Did you not hear the countdown? (gestures to the empty docking bay) Do you see a missile here?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(soaking in the reality of the scene)  
I had hoped you found a way to stop it.

MEGATRON  
And how exactly would I have accomplished that? I thought you said the only method to deal with it was to redirect it, post-launch.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(slightly defensive)  
A mech can hope can't he?

Megatron gestures the prime to follow him.

MEGATRON  
If he wants to waste precious time, then yes.

The pair simultaneously dives through the opening. Optimus immediately fires up his jetpack once feeling the rush of Cybertronian air and is propelled forward at a speed nearly unfathomable to the average grounder. Megatron follows close behind, his foot thrusters burning at near-maximum level. Both of their attentions immediately lock onto the glow of the missile's burn ahead of them.

It takes only a short time for them to gain on the slowly but steadily soaring weapon. They align themselves parallel on either sides of it and Megatron grabs hold of it with both hands. He shifts his trajectory and steers the missile up toward the deep blue space. His thrusters ignite hotter, causing a burst of acceleration and sending him further upward.

Optimus follows his lead, pulling his limbs flush to his chassis and slicing through the atmosphere with more efficiency. He watches the unlikely image of his arch nemesis grow in his field of vision, a strange sense of admiration washing over him. He never imagined Cybertron's biggest threat would ever risk his own functioning to protect her, but then again, what would Megatron do with himself if he didn't have a planet to conquer? Or at least try to conquer.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(opening a comm call)  
[Let it go, quickly. Before you accidentally detonate it.]

MEGATRON  
[If I let it go, it will correct itself back on its original course to Iacon. I feel it fighting my grasp. Its guidance system is quite advanced.]

He eases off his thrusters, allowing the prime to catch up to him.

MEGATRON  
(shouting over the multiple roaring turbines)  
Does your jet pack function if detached from you?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(his optics widening in realization)  
Yes!

Megatron keeps one arm firmly wrapped around the missile then extends the other out to grab hold of the prime's arm. Optimus cuts the power to his jet pack then removes it from his back, his movements clumsy as he's left to the mercy of gravity and Megatron's hold.

With a joint effort, the two mechs attach the jet pack to the missile. Optimus adjusts a few setting on the pack then switches a lever from the 'manual' position to 'autopilot.' He cranks the burn setting to maximum and flinches as it spits out a burst of firepower then rockets upward.

Megatron cuts power to his thrusters, slowing them down to a steady hover. They watch with wide optics as the blue and red object carries their planet's severest threat into the star-littered void.

The Decepticon commander adjusts his hold on his passenger, attempting to make him more comfortable, but grimacing awkwardly at their close proximity.

MEGATRON  
(his optics still fixed on the shrinking glow)  
Will it detonate on impact?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I believe so.

MEGATRON  
(cracking a tiny smirk)  
Then let us hope it finds its way to Deliberata's escape pod.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(with a chuckle)  
If only we are so lucky.

MEGATRON  
Surely, Optimus Prime, you know by now that I do not believe in luck.

Megatron reignites his thrusters and begins their descent into Kaon, his smirk long since faded. Optimus can feel a strange uneasiness in the mech, a vibe he could almost swear was regret. He would never suspect an emotion such as this from his formidable rival and can't help wonder what could possibly cause such a phenomenon.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(apprehensively)  
Is…everything alright?

MEGATRON  
(unconvincing)  
Of course it is…Why wouldn't it be?

**BLASTER & VIBES NIGHT CLUB – PRESENT TIME**

SENTINEL  
Oh thank Primus! For a moment there I thought we would have to honor Megatron as Cybertron's sacrificial hero.

This pulls a duet of groans from Sentinel's company, Prowl dropping his face into his hand and Optimus pinching the bridge of his nose.

SENTINEL  
(finishing the last drops of his third cube)  
Although, I'm not really sure how the public would take the news of a jetpack outshining the Elite Guard's finest.

He rubs his chin, mulling over his thoughts with utmost seriousness.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Why do you feel it's necessary to assign a single bot as yesterday's sole hero? (glances up to Sentinel earnestly) The reason we're sitting here now, able to have this conversation is because of each and every bot involved in the mission, regardless of faction and regardless of whether they even saw the missile or stepped foot onto the ship.

Sentinel raises a brow to Optimus but Prowl looks upon his leader with reverence.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
Everyone played a key role. (gesturing to the ninja) Prowl and Jazz bravely led the ninja teams. Bulkhead was responsible for transporting us all onto the ship. Chromia suggested we involve the other 'cons, Blackarachnia and Swindle provided us with valuable information about the missile even before the mission began.

The prime's words appear to sober the magnus up a bit. He sits up straight, meeting the prime's stare with comprehending nod.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
It all came down to teamwork, Sentinel Magnus…trust and teamwork.

SENTINEL  
So, that's why you allowed Megatron and the 'cons to stay in Kaon?...Because you trust them now?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I trusted them yesterday…and I only wish I had a valid reason to keep that trust, but we both know that would be foolish.

Sentinel nods in agreement, leaning back to a lazy slouch in his seat.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
I did however promise them amnesty.

SENTINEL  
(snapping up straight-postured)  
You did what!? Under whose authority?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
The council…namely Alpha Trion.

SENTINEL  
That old coot isn't the Magnus, how dare he—

PROWL  
(interrupting)  
What about Starscream?

The magnus freezes, glancing to Prowl with irritation.

SENTINEL  
Let it go, already!

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(shaking his head questioningly)  
What about him, Prowl?

PROWL  
You don't truly believe he fled with Deliberata?

OPTIMUS PRIME  
He was nowhere to be found. Not on the ship and not in Kaon.

SENTINEL  
Give it a rest, Prowl. He fled with the squid, end of story.

PROWL  
But…(his wing panels droop in defeat) He said he was going to take care of the missile, and I know for certain he wasn't allied with the Quintessons.

OPTIMUS PRIME  
(shrugging regrettably to his soldier)  
I'm not sure what to tell you, Prowl. Perhaps his intentions were heroic, but when it came down to the moment of truth…he couldn't go through with it.

PROWL  
(shaking his head sorrowfully)  
But I…he…perhaps (vents a reluctant sigh)…perhaps you are right.


	36. Still Alive

_A/N: Ok wow, what to say. Here's the final chapter. To call this a journey would be an understatement. I won't bore you with too much sappiness but I will say this project has submerged me into an awesome fandom and allowed me to meet some equally awesome people. Thank you Antepathy and Optimus Bob for all the betas, support and love. I seriously might not have finished this without your backing. Thanks again to my faithful readers and reviewers. Your love really is crack. ^_^  
_

_There's a pic to go along with this chapter on my DevArt which you can link to from my profile. It's under the name Wildmonarch._

_Now, on the with dramaz!  
_

_

* * *

  
_

**KAON – GLADIATORIAL ARENA – VIP ROOM – PRESENT TIME**

BLACKARACHNIA  
A peace treaty?

The spider stands at a small table stacked high with untouched energon cubes, her back turned to the VIP throne which Megatron is seated in.

MEGATRON  
That is correct.

She collects a couple cubes and brings them to her leader, noting the burns still present on his shoulder and chest.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What's the catch?

He stares thoughtfully out the large window overlooking his arena, uninterested in the energon being offered to him.

MEGATRON  
We must rebuild Kaon into a self-sufficient and prosperous city.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(planting a hand on her hip)  
In other words, relieve Iacon of a burden to their economy. (she sets the cubes down and turns toward the window, shaking her head). This city is a wasteland…devoid of any natural resources. How are we supposed to prosper without a steady supply of energon? (gestures to the table) We can't keep expecting handouts from the Elite Guard.

MEGATRON  
I do not expect or require any more charitable donations.

She looks over her shoulder to the distant gladiator, attempting to interpret his false sense of calm.

BLACKARACHINIA  
(with a sigh)  
There's something you should know…

MEGATRON  
(ignoring her last comment)  
We are not limited by our access to natural resources. The Elite Guard does not realize the popularity of this arena and its potential for revenue. They are fools to allow me to control it once again.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(turning to face him, paranoia in her optics)  
You're not planning an uprising already are you? The dust from the Quintesson threat hasn't even settled.

MEGATRON  
Of course not, don't be ridiculous. This stint of peace will allow me the opportunity to…(a tiny smirk budding) earn their trust. Make them believe I am content to abide on this…reservation.

Blackarachnia can only refresh her optics questioningly at the scheming tyrant.

MEGATRON  
(raising an optic ridge to her)  
What is the matter?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Why can't you just…abide. What's there to gain from rocking the boat?

MEGATRON  
(losing his smirk)  
Our dignity.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I disagree.

MEGATRON  
That is because, Blackarachnia, you have much to learn about what it truly means to be a Decepticon.

He rises up, his shadow temporarily engulfing the spider's insulted frown as he passes by her and stops at the window. He watches with a raised brow as Waspinator attempts to battle Lugnut, the Kaon Krusher, in the ring below. Boring quickly of the unbalanced match, he then gazes up to where the Quintesson ship used to be hovering.

MEGATRON  
What has become of the ship? Has the Elite Guard claimed it as their own?

BLACKARACHNIA  
(remains standing by the throne)  
They were going to, but Lockdown and Swindle got to it before they could. They have taken it to Quintessa in hopes of collecting a reward from the Quintesson royalty.

MEGATRON  
Figures…and the captured Quintessons?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Iacon stockades.

MEGATRON  
Hmm…pity. Quintessa put a high bounty on their heads…but I suppose that bounty would only be rewarded if all _three_ outlaws were handed over.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I still can't believe Deliberata escaped…

Blackarachnia drops her gaze down, hurt and anger washing over her. She drops a set of balled fists to her sides.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I wonder if he's responsible for Starscream's disappearance.

From the corners of her optics, she sees the broad silver chassis tense up and hears a hitch in its ventilating.

MEGATRON  
(keeping his back to her but raising his voice)  
The only one responsible for Starscream's disappearance is that traitor himself.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(her optics brightening in a flash)  
What does that mean?

She closes the gap between them and grasps her claws lightly around his arm.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(attempting to meet his unreadable optics with her desperate ones)  
Did you see him?

Megatron yanks his arm away and turns his back to her once more.

MEGATRON  
I watched him flee with the Quintesson. Had I not been saddled with hero duty I would have stopped them, but Optimus Prime insisted we attend to the missile.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(her face stricken with horrified disbelief)  
No…No! I refuse to believe that. Starscream wouldn't do that…(shaking her head) and Optimus Prime said you two never encountered him.

MEGATRON  
(his irritation rising quickly)  
It doesn't matter what you believe, these are the facts.

Blackarachnia watches the ruffled mech skeptically as he moves further away from her, swatting the cubes off his throne as he passes by it.

MEGATRON  
I am not oblivious to the relationship the two of you built up and I can clearly see you have developed inappropriately strong feelings for him. While I do not know what happened aboard that ship I can venture to guess that he took advantage of your feelings and misled you with a false nobility.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(her voice darkening)  
You have no idea what you're talking about.

MEGATRON  
(continuing brashly)  
The fact of the matter, Blackarachnia, is that Starscream is and always will be a mech for himself. He does what he wants, when he wants to and is not mindful of who he has to step on or betray to attain what he wants…or to save his worthless chassis.

The aggravated femme crosses the room in a heated flash, cutting off her leader's path and staring with wild intent into his surprised optics. She leans into him with fangs bared, unbothered by the sheer height difference and nearly pressing him back with her proximity alone.

He narrows his optics and opens his mouth to protest her behavior but she cuts his words off with a growling rasp.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Then why did he give me the energon conversion formula.

Megatron freezes, his spark skipping a pulse behind his chest plate.

MEGATRON  
He…gave you the formula?

BLACKARACHNIA  
Yes…right before he left to deal with the missile. (she brings her hand into Megatron's view, her blue-tipped claws splayed wide and lightly trembling) He also found a means to purge my organic half.

Megatron shoves her aside and turns back toward his throne.

MEGATRON  
Are you still obsessed with regaining your Autobot form?

She ignores his attempted conversational diversion and pursues him, shoving him in the back with her altered claws.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Why would he do all that if he didn't care about anyone but himself?

MEGATRON  
A decoy.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(with another shove to his back)  
You're wrong!

Megatron whips around and snatches her hand, squeezing it tightly and bearing down upon her with a glare of warning.

The femme is unaffected by his obvious scare tactics and stands her ground, rage bristling through every hybrid circuit in her body.

BLACKARACHNIA  
He gave me the formula, Megatron, knowing full well I intended to keep my allegiance to you and the Decepticons. Why would he do that if he was allied with the Quintessons?

He releases her hand but grips her by the arms, pulling her into his deranged glare. She makes a noise somewhere between a growl and a whimper, refusing to be intimidated by his scare tactics.

MEGATRON  
Are you able to comprehend the meaning of the formula and actually make use of it or is it just an untranslatable lump of figures in your processor?

The femme opens her mouth to speak but is unable to find the words.

Megatron soaks in her dumbfounded gape with disappointment then gently lowers her to the floor.

BLACKARACHNIA  
I—I would have to dedicate countless hours into the study of organic chemistry, and even then—

MEGATRON  
It was a decoy…to make you believe he wouldn't betray either of us.

Blackarachnia chases away her doubt and snaps a confident glare to the tyrant, her courage bubbling to the surface again.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You don't know that, you weren't there! You didn't see the look in his face...

Megatron turns away, feigning disinterest.

BLACKARACHNIA  
…or feel the fear in his spark.

MEGATRON  
Are you finished?

The femme gasps at his heartlessness, her ventilation rate increasing with the repulsion building in her spark. Her lips pinch tight and her optics blaze as she looks him over, noting his uneasy stance and inability to mask a guilty awkwardness.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You're hiding something.

MEGATRON  
(ignoring her accusation)  
If you haven't any more useful information for me then I suggest you—

BLACKARACHNIA  
What happened, Megatron?

She steps in front of him again, her facing twitching with too many emotions to contain in a single expression.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What did you do?

He looks down upon her, his expression equally twitching but with a different set of emotion and that's all it takes to clue the femme into the truth. Her chest heaves up and down, whimpers escaping through her gritted teeth. She gives into her crippling rage and throws her fists against his chest.

BLACKARACHNIA  
What did you do to him!?

Her stingers cock forward and glow green with venom.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(pounding his chest again)  
Tell me!

Megatron forces her stingers down with irritation, pinning them to her as his massive hands engulf her upper body.

MEGATRON  
Get yourself under control.

She struggles and writhes in his grip, never once removing her blaring optics from his.

BLACKARACHNIA  
You monster! You did something to him, I know you did!

He turns her around, maintaining a firm grip but preventing her from witnessing his break of emotional control. He pulls her back flush to his chest as she continues to struggle, her growls giving in more to her whimpers.

She knows her attempts to break free of his hold are futile but that doesn't stop her from trying. She claws at the broad arms constricting her, delirious with frustration.

BLACKARACHNIA  
Just tell me what happened!

He remains silent but his actions speak volumes. She finally lets herself go limp in his hold when she feels the dramatic rise and fall of his chest against her back and the strange resonation of his spark.

BLACKARACHNIA  
(her optics dimming in a crushing realization)  
Please…I have to know.

Megatron remains silent and walks to the door, pushing her with him. He flings the door open, shoves her through it then slams it before she can get her footing and pursue him.

He drifts back to his throne, straining to block out the femme's desperate cries and pounding on the door. Her cursing soon gives way to broken words and violent sobs. The pounding stops and he hears only the scraping of her body as she slides down the door. He can clearly see, despite the thick opacity of his door, the image of her body collapsing in a sobbing mess.

The troubled tyrant falls into his throne, splaying his arms over the armrests and wincing at each sob seeping into the room. He leans forward into his legs, dropping his gaze to the floor and pinching the bridge of his nose hard enough to crack it. Unbothered by the sting of his injury, he vents a long, regretful sigh.

***

_Blackness. A possible eternity of blackness, finally chased away with purple, magenta, orange and a breeze of warmth._

_A solar-rise. The most anticipated solar-rise of my functioning._

_But is it real or a dream? Each dent, each torn fuel line. My bleeding energon mixing with the gritty desert dust; my shattered cockpit and cracked sparked chamber. All these things feel real. A chassis doesn't scream agony from helm to thruster when you're dreaming. _

_I try to move, but just as in a dream, I am unable to. I visualize sitting up, my weight pressed into my arms, my feet sliding under my crouched body as I stand. All my concentration is in this action yet I can barely illuminate my optics to see the stars fade into the vivid gradient of morning._

_Morning…that equates to a new cycle which means if this truly isn't a dream then the missile did not detonate on Cybertron._

_Was I successful? Did I redirect it and actually live? Perhaps I failed and all of Cybertron's sentient life has been deactivated…except for my spark. Could that be possible? Could my spark…my mutated, resilient spark withstand the devastating force of a Quintessonian weapon of mass destruction?_

_Doubtful._

_I wouldn't have a chassis intact enough to be maddening me with pain if that were the case. No…Cybertron is safe. I can feel it…in the crisp morning air, she is unchanged. Her inhabitants awake, unaware to the monotonous routine they almost lost._

_Why can't I remember the missile? Do I have amnesia? What do I remember? The Quintessons. The converter. Blackarachnia…a kiss. The kiss of a Black Widow. Isn't that bad luck in some cultures? It's a good thing I don't believe in luck. _

_The formula._

_I can't remember the formula. Did it physically transfer to her instead of just copy over? Did I give her all my organic knowledge? No, I couldn't have. I can still feel…him. The human professor. I still have all his knowledge, all his…ethics. Why would only the formula transfer over? That doesn't make any logical sense. Did that ninja interfere with me using his blasted Processor over Matter? Did I come in contact with any of those spiritual saps?_

_No._

_Now I remember…There was only one other I came in contact with after leaving the lab._

**FLASHBACK – QUINTESSON SHIP**

Starscream slinks down the corridor, his thoughts locked on the missile and the missile alone. He can't think about anything else, not Blackarachnia, not the formula, not even victory. All these things could hinder him from his purpose, make him seek an alternative. There may just be an alternative to his burdened body taking full responsibility of Cybertron's future, but he doesn't have the time to figure it out.

He stops and looks over his wings, wincing at the encumbering restraints. He tries to pull them off but it's no use. They're snapped on tight and tearing them off could leave his wings worse off than they are now. He feels confident in his assumption that Sevax can no longer torture him, given the painful cries he heard from the Quintesson echoing in the hallway outside the lab earlier, but that doesn't erase his grudge against the alien. The cries he heard were only a teaser to the kind of punishment that sadistic being should be subjected to. No one has ever humiliated Starscream to that extreme before, not even Megatron. How dare that filthy creature be so brash?

He curses internally, his bitterness toward the Quintesson threatening to distract his mission with the temptation of seeking vengeance. Reaching the end of the corridor, he rounds the corner but looks behind him down the opposite hall. He has a strange feeling he's being tracked, like someone's tracing his energy signature.

He turns to face forward just as his path is obstructed by something: a pair of swords, giant swords, frightfully familiar swords, planted into the floor and forming a large 'X'. He lifts his glance to view the towering form a mere couple steps behind the swords.

STARSCREAM  
Me—Megatron!?

The stunned seeker staggers back a few steps, his mouth still gaping with the gasp that spoke his leader's name.

Megatron's mass fills the corridor, blocking Starscream's view of the missile bay door. But it's not as though Starscream is trying to see anything beyond the stalwart silver wall, not when it stands unbreakably and wears a deep, glowering frown.

MEGATRON  
(with a whispering growl)  
Arm yourself.

Starscream glances between the gladiator and the swords, knowing full well what they symbolize.

STARSCREAM  
Megatron, listen to me.

MEGATRON  
(taking a step forward)  
Choose your sword.

STARSCREAM  
(taking a step back)  
I won't.

The impatient tyrant yanks his swords from the floor, jerking them upright into the same symbolic X. He shoves Starscream into the wall with the weapons, the blades forming a V just under the tapered chin.

MEGATRON  
(leaning in close)  
I said…choose…your sword.

STARSCREAM  
(his voice sliding into a frightened and frustrated shriek)  
This is not the time or place. I need to stop that missile!

MEGATRON  
(punching his fist into the small gap of wall between the seeker's wing and helmet)  
What kind of fool do you take me for?

STARSCREAM  
A clueless one! Do you not hear the countdown?!

Megatron presses a blade into his former second's neck and bores his blazing glare into him.

MEGATRON  
All I hear is the sniveling of a coward. Now, for the last time…choose your weapon.

STARSCREAM  
(anger overriding his fear)  
No! It's pointless! These swords are your weapons and you're functioning at full power. Perhaps you should recheck your definition of a coward!

The screeching, brash words seem to push Megatron back. He glances over the restraints on Starscream's wings, appearing to study them. Then, with brutish but precise swings of his sword, he slices each restraint off without even a scratch to the jet's body.

Starscream presses his back against the wall, flinching, anticipating an assault but is instead forcefully handed a sword. He takes it reluctantly and watches with worried irritation as Megatron assumes a fighting stance.

STARSCREAM  
(after a courage-building moment)  
What are you trying to prove here!? (he bitterly tosses the sword onto the floor) You know I don't stand a chance against you like this. I can't defeat you without—

The gladiator throws his sword down, cutting off the seeker's words then capturing him in a one-handed choke-hold. He leans in even closer than before; close enough so Starscream can smell the heated air seeping through the gritted teeth.

MEGATRON  
Exactly Starscream, you cannot defeat me.

He plows his fist into a wing, nearly wiping out the Decepticon symbol on it. The seeker bites back a scream but can't prevent his body from shuddering in agony.

MEGATRON  
Not with some silly invention…

He repeats the previous action on the same wing, this time pulling a wrenching yelp from his victim.

MEGATRON  
Or a pathetic army of clones…

Starscream groans as he's peeled off the wall then hurled into the opposite one, his cockpit shattering upon the impact. He crumples to the floor, grasping at the stinging pain in his chest.

MEGATRON  
And especially not with an alien alliance.

The tyrant plows his foot into the jet's side, pinning the limp body into the wall for a regretfully satisfying moment then pulling away to survey the damage.

Several burst fuel lines spurt out energon and broken circuits spark and fizzle, but the seeker bites back his agonizing groans. He pulls himself to his hand and knees, trying to ignore spatter of his own fluids below him.

The towering gladiator adjusts a few settings on his arm cannon then points it directly at the bleeding, dented chassis of his air commander.

MEGATRON  
You have betrayed me for the last time, Starscream.

Starscream searches around himself in a last ditch effort then locks focus onto a panel on the wall. He flings it open and grabs a small blaster housed inside. He hears the familiar power-up song of a fusion cannon and is about to fire upon his leader but both mechs are distracted by the announcing of the final 10 nanoseconds before the missile launch.

Starscream seizes the moment and blasts the fusion cannon off Megatron's arm. Another two shots land on the tyrant's shoulder and chest, causing him to twist and growl with irritation, but they didn't even break the surface of his chassis. Starscream only managed to anger his attacker even more.

Megatron bears down on the kneeling jet, lifting him by the collar fairing then slamming him into the wall. He plows his knee into the sheered talons still grasping the blaster, crushing both Starscream's hand and the weapon.

Starscream bites down on another regretful scream, his body too weak to withstand the pain anymore. Who is he kidding? Masking pain has never been a successful tactic in sparing himself from beating before. It only encourages Megatron to keep at it until he gets his desired reaction.

He illuminates his optics and stares into the deranged gaze boring into him, conceding to let his nemesis see him for all he is; see his naked fear and desperation in its entirety.

STARSCREAM  
(his voice growing weaker by the moment)  
Everything will be destroyed…and Cybertron's blood will be on your hands…if we don't do something about that missile, right now.

MEGATRON  
(unwavering)  
Your attempts at deception are futile.

Starscream hangs his head in defeat as Megatron pulls him off the wall then drags him into missile bay. He beholds the large opening in the floor where the missile used to be, the hatch still open and allowing him a full view of Kaon below. The city's buildings are tiny and faint but he can still clearly make out the arena; the birthplace of his honored faction and the first place he ever laid optics on the stubborn mech who has just unknowingly assigned himself to missile duty.

STARSCREAM  
(hardly able to speak)  
You're wasting…valuable time.

With a firm grip to his neck, Megatron lifts the broken flyer up and dangles his listless body over the open hatch.

MEGATRON  
(his stern expression fighting back a hint of sadness)  
I regret every moment I wasted deeming you worthy enough to serve at my side.

STARSCREAM  
Finish me quickly then…so you can get to that missile. (meeting his optics with a pleading sincerity) It flies slowly so you can still catch it…but you mustn't waste any more time.

MEGATRON  
Enough.

STARSCREAM  
(persisting)  
Once you reach it, steer it into the upper atmosphere and release it. Your thrusters should be more than powerful enough.

MEGATRON  
Will you desist already!? Can you not face your punishment with dignity and die like a warrior?

STARSCREAM  
I was fully prepared to until you intervened with your time-old idiocy! Now Cybertron's fate is left to your bumbling, should you actually realize the responsibility you've just brought upon yourself.

Megatron's optics narrow and his frown deepens as he looks into his former second's dimming optics.

STARSCREAM  
Do what you must, Megatron, just do it quickly…you can still stop that missile. Don't sacrifice all of Cybertron just so you can satisfy your petty lust for vengeance.

MEGATRON  
You…(he's struck with a stinging realization) You're serious.

STARSCREAM  
Of course I'm serious, you stubborn old fool.

He summons the last of his energy and digs his talons into the sensitive cabling of Megatron's arm. The tyrant growls at the unexpected assault and reactively releases his grasp on the seeker's neck.

Starscream falls through the hatch, catching only a quick glimpse of Megatron's horrified expression and hearing his name shouted from the rapidly shrinking hatch. His leader's voice rings in his cortex long after the rush of passing air engulfed auditory senses.

**CYBERTRONIAN DESERT – JUST OUTSIDE KAON – PRESENT TIME**

The morning light silhouettes the distant image of Kaon on the horizon, a similar scene to one back on Earth, specifically Dinobot Island. Starscream thinks back to that memorable morning when he gazed fearfully at his pathetic excuse for a leader, anticipating a punishment that would have left him in a similar state to what he's in now. But Megatron had not punished him during that encounter. He instead had spoken about teamwork as if the notion had just dawned on him. Stupid old fool never did catch on quickly. He always had to learn the hard way.

The grounded flyer wonders what became of the damnable mech. Did the old bastard actually listen to him and redirect that missile? Did he survive it or is he blown all to pit? The image makes Starscream want to smile, if he could muster the strength to. Unfortunately his instinctive genius contradicts the delectable vision of an obliterated Megatron. He can feel in what's left of his dwindling spark that the incompetent imbecile still functions and is no doubt moping around the arena trying to justify his typically impulsive aggression that cost him a valuable warrior and superior replacement.

Starscream is uncertain how long he can survive like this; bitter, immobile, leaking precious energon. Even his relentlessly burning (and quite impressive) spark must have its limits. He dims his optics and wipes his processor of all its disturbing thoughts. He needs every ounce of positive focus to keep his spark online. Ignore the anger, the pain. He would call for help but it would have taken a miracle of science for his communicator to survive _that_ beating. All he can do is wait. Focus and wait. Someone will come for him. Hopefully someone other than Megatron. Perhaps Blackarachnia, Swindle or Prowl. The only beings that took a chance and trusted him. One of them will come for him. One of them must know he's still alive.

* * *

_I never promised a Happily Ever After! Don't hate me. =P_

_However, this is not the end. In fact, there's a whole collection of madness based in this universe, taking place during this time of peace on Cybertron. I have joined with Antepathy and Optimus Bob in writing a fic called Cybertronian Nights which can be found in my fav stories. It NOT in script format (thank primus) and tells the story of a little brothel outside Kaon. Did I mention it was rated M and contains sticky slash? Yeah, you've been warned. XP_

_There will also be a non-slash follow-up to this chapter that I will post as a separate story, so if you're not a slash fan but MUST know what happens to Screamer, stay tuned. ^_^  
_

_xoxo  
ToyzInTheAttic_


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